Lost in The Darkness
by ColHogan
Summary: The men of Barracks Two and Stalag 13 are mourning the loss of Colonel Robert Hogan. But what hurts the most is not only the way in which they lost him, but Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau believe it was their fault. ***Bronze PBA Winner-Best Long Drama.***
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own Hogan's Heroes nor any of its characters, but I do the DVDs and enjoy watching them daily. Only the OCs are mine. The character of Master Sergeant Matt Wilkerson is used with the permission of his creator Jennaya, but will not appear until later in the story. This idea has been rattling around in my head and I thought I would write it. This story takes place near the end of 1944.**

**Lost In The Darkness**

Hours had passed after lights out in barracks two, and everything was quiet for the most part. And although the men were all lying in their bunks, none of them were sleeping. They all lay awake either staring at the ceiling or the walls, each man grieving in silence; mourning the loss of their commanding officer, Colonel Robert Hogan. And while the loss of Hogan devastated everyone, the way they lost him hurt the most because nobody saw it coming. Only one man, Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe, wasn't in his bunk tonight; instead, he sat alone in Hogan's office where he felt somehow closer to his commanding officer.

He was seated at Hogan's desk, in the dark, except for a thin sliver of moonlight filtering between the closed shutters supplying a dim light in the room. But it supplied enough that if somebody else had been present, they would have seen the tears cascading down Kinch's cheeks, falling faster than he could wipe them away. He didn't know which was more unbearable; the grief or the guilt. In the end, he decided both were equally unbearable. And though he knew all the men in camp were grieving, he, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk all took it harder than the others did because they were Hogan's core unit, and felt it was their responsibility to look out for their Colonel, and should have seen what was happening. Exhaling deeply, he lifted his puffy, red eyes to the ceiling and swallowed the growing lump that had formed in his throat.

"We failed you, Colonel," he said in a shaky voice. "We were so busy we never took the time to really notice what was happening. And when you really needed us, we weren't there for you." He wiped his face again. "During the past six months we didn't pay close enough attention; didn't see what was happening right in front of our faces. Perhaps if we had, we could have done something. But we didn't, and for that we are truly sorry." He took in and let out a deep breath. "I only hope we did the right thing in the end." His lower lip began to tremble. "Colonel, I am so, so sorry."

**(Two Months Earlier)**

Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk were all sitting on the bench outside barracks two enjoying the warm sunshine when the door to their barracks opened and out stepped Colonel Hogan. He leaned his back against the wall of the barracks with legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded across his chest. With head tilted to the side, he stared with an amused grin on his face as he watched the other prisoners out in the compound engaging in various sports-related activities during their one hour of daily exercise. He chuckled watching Olsen miss a return shot during a volleyball game and ended up chasing the ball as it sailed over his head and bounded away in the direction of the Kommandantur. He also noticed Baker tossing a football around with Saunders.

Hogan turned his head and looked over at his team with a curious expression. Carter leaning back against the barracks with eyes closed and holding a tin plate in each hand trying to get some sun while LeBeau, Kinch and Newkirk watched the other prisoners.

"How come you guys aren't out there with the others?" the Colonel asked.

The diminutive Frenchman smiled as he looked up into Hogan's face and saw the shadows beneath the man's brown eyes and sensed the Colonel should use the time to catch up on some much needed sleep as London had kept them extremely busy the last few weeks without a break. "We thought we'd sit this one out, Colonel," he replied in a low voice as the guards were walking around watching all the prisoners. "Besides, we had enough exercise the last few weeks anyway."

"No argument there," Hogan agreed. He put the back of his hand in front of his mouth to hide the yawn which didn't go unnoticed by Newkirk, Kinch and LeBeau.

"Why don't you go and lay down for a while, Colonel?" Kinch asked. "You look like you could use some sleep."

Hogan smirked. "I'm all right. Besides, I never sleep during the day." He suddenly straightened. "Looks like we have company."

With the exception of Carter, the others followed the Colonel's eyes in the direction of the main gates and watched a truck driving through the gates and stop in front of the Kommandantur. They continued watching as two Luftwaffe guards, armed with rifles, jump down from the back of the truck, and gesture with their weapons for whoever was inside to come out.

One by one three men jumped out of the truck, and although their wrists and ankles were shackled, the chains allowed a bit of leeway as they jumped down.

"Wonder where they found them?" asked LeBeau.

"Good question," said Newkirk. "We didn't hear any planes being shot down or any escapes from other Stalags, did we Kinch?"

"Not a word," the radioman replied. He gazed up at his commanding officer. "You hear anything from London about any new prisoners, sir?" Hogan didn't seem to be paying attention as his eyes were focused on a fourth man who had just jumped down from the truck. It can't be, Hogan thought, it isn't possible. The man appeared a bit younger than the others, and he looked nervously around at his surroundings before his eyes met those of the man outside the barracks wearing a brown leather flight jacket and a crush cap like his own. "He looks so familiar. Could it be?" he said to himself. But he was too far away, and couldn't be certain without a closer look. He glanced over his shoulder one last time and looked at the man in the leather jacket as he and the others were shoved up the steps of the Kommandantur and inside the building by the guards.

"Colonel?" asked Kinch, concerned. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I don't believe it," Hogan replied with complete shock on his face. "It can't be."

"Can't be what, Colonel?" asked Carter who still had his eyes closed and holding the tin plates.

Instead of answering, Hogan hurriedly walked across the compound and bounded up the steps of the Kommandantur. Smiling at Hilda, he winked at her and she blushed as she shyly smiled back at the American. He wished he had time for a little inner-office romance, but there was something more important right now. Not bothering to knock, Hogan opened the door of Klink's inner office and entered, mindful of the two armed guards who quickly turned their rifles in his direction. Hogan paused quickly taking in the situation.

Klink, exasperated, looked up at the interruption. "Hogan, what are you doing here? I don't recall sending for you." He gestured to the guards to lower their weapons which caused Hogan to release the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He looked at the four men who had been watching him the entire time. But he kept his face impassive even when he glanced at the younger man's flight jacket and the name tag reading 'Lt. T.M. Carpenter.' Hogan let out a deep breath and faced Klink.

"I try to predict your every wish, Kommandant," Hogan said with a smirk. "You're aware I aim to please at all times."

Klink rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Since you're here, you might as well stay," he said before turning back to the new prisoners. During his conversation with Hogan, the guards had released the shackles on the ankles and wrists of the prisoners. Klink stared hard at the four men standing before him with a smug expression. "This is Colonel Hogan, Senior POW officer," Klink said gesturing to Hogan. He then turned his attention back to the prisoners. "Now gentlemen, you have been brought to the toughest POW camp in all of Germany."

Hogan looked amused. "And there's never been a successful escape either," he chimed in, his voice just above a whisper.

"And there's never been…" Klink continued. "Hogaaaaaannnnn!"

Hogan feigned hurt feelings. "Trying to speed things up, sir," he said innocently.

"I don't need your help!" Klink said. "I'm the Kommandant here!"

"Kommandant, maybe you should have cards printed up and hand them out when new prisoners drop in," Hogan suggested innocently. "It would save time."

"Hogan, one more word out of you and I'll have you removed from this office."

"Well," Hogan said in a huff, momentarily looking away. He winked at the four men who were finding the interaction between the two Colonels both amusing and strange.

Klink turned back to the men in front of him. "What Colonel Hogan says is quite true. There has never been a successful escape from this camp. And you four would do well to remember that."

"All right, Lieutenant. You will tell me where you are stationed and what unit you are with in England." Klink's eyes focused on the young Lieutenant.

Carpenter turned his green eyes towards Hogan who subtly shook his head. "Remember, name, rank, and serial number," said Hogan.

The Lieutenant swallowed hard, stood at attention with hands clasped behind him and looked straight ahead at a spot on the wall behind Klink.

"Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial number 0871519."

Klink slammed both hands down on his desk and slowly got to his feet. "Let's not have any of that name, rank, and serial number nonsense." He looked at the other men. "Now I want to know where you are stationed, what unit you are with, and I want to know now."

The Corporal standing beside Carpenter noticed Hogan subtly shake his head. He stared at a blank spot on the wall behind Klink. "Toller. Michael. Corporal. Serial number 0451582."

"Segal. Maxwell. Staff Sergeant. Serial number 0412959."

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514," stated the slightly older Sergeant standing close to Segal.

Klink slowly walked around his desk until he stood directly before the new prisoners. He sat on the edge of the desk with arms folded across his chest; his version of a menacing expression on his face. Hogan bit his tongue to keep from busting out laughing at the Kommandant's attempt to look fierce and hopefully scare the new prisoners.

"We have ways of making you talk," he growled staring hard at each man.

While the Kommandant babbled on and on, Carpenter looked out the corner of his eye at Hogan, thumbs hooked in his jacket pockets, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head. The Lieutenant fought hard to hide the amused grin on his face, but it did not escape Klink.

"You find that funny, Lieutenant?" the Kommandant asked as he got to his feet and stood face-to-face with the young man.

"No, sir," Carpenter replied eyes still staring straight ahead and not at Klink.

"Very well," Klink remarked turning away and walking back behind his desk where he continued standing. "We'll give all of you time to change your minds. Schuuuuulllltz!"

The door opened, and the rotund figure of Sergeant Hans Schultz entered, saluting. "You called for me, Herr Kommandant?"

"Yes, Dummkopf. I want these men all put in solitary for one week. Then we'll see how talkative they become."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz advanced but was stopped by Hogan's hand on his chest.

"Just a moment, Kommandant," the American officer said. "As Senior officer of the prisoners, I must protest you putting these men in solitary. It's inhuman and barbaric. And totally unlike you."

"It is?" Schultz asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes it is, Schultz," Hogan continued. "Everybody knows Colonel Klink is the most humane, gentle, and caring Kommandant to ever run a prison camp. And to see you act like, like a sadistic monster…well, I'm stunned. Simply stunned by this act."

Klink looked at his American counterpart with a stricken look on his face. "Well, if I can't put them in solitary, what can I do with them?"

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself and pursed his lips. "Well, perhaps you could assign them to a barracks. I mean, every new prisoner knows a camp Kommandant is gonna put them in solitary at first. But, by assigning them to a barracks instead would throw them for a loop, sir."

"And that's a good thing how?" asked a puzzled Klink.

"Well, sir, they won't know what to make of your actions. They'll become confused and probably more cooperative with the Iron Colonel for showing mercy being the generous man you are. But I'm aware once you make up your mind about something, nothing and nobody can change it."

Klink's chest was puffed out over Hogan's praise as a smug smirk appeared on his face. "Hogan, since the men think so highly of me, I'm going to change my orders. Schultz, you will assign these men to a barracks instead."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," said the guard knowing quite well what Hogan was doing and just shook his head.

"Just one more thing, Kommandant," said Hogan as Schultz opened the door preparing to escort the prisoners out.

"What is it now, Hogan?" Klink asked as he sat down behind his desk.

"Sir, when these men are assigned to a barracks, do you think it would be too much to ask that Lt. Carpenter be assigned to barracks two? I mean, I have a spare bunk in my quarters."

Klink looked at Hogan suspiciously, and again got to his feet and approached the American. "And just why do you want to have Lt. Carpenter assigned to your barracks? I can read you like a book, Hogan. You're up to something. Now speak up before I change my mind."

Hogan shrugged and looked embarrassed. "Well, sir, it's embarrassing really. But I'm kinda tired of being in my quarters and having conversations with myself. I'd like another officer with whom to have a conversation. I mean, there are certain things an officer can't discuss with those in his command. I'm sure you know what I mean, sir. You have no idea how lonely it gets being the only officer here other than you, sir." Hogan gave his best puppy-dog expression. "I'm sure you're aware how lonely it is at the top, sir," he added sadly.

Klink felt he was about to cry as he gazed in to Hogan's sad brown eyes. He didn't notice Schultz rolling his eyes knowing the American Colonel was conning the Kommandant again. "Very well, Hogan. Lieutenant Carpenter can room with you in barracks two." He looked at his Sergeant-of-the-Guard. "See to it, Schultz."

"Jawohl."

Hogan smiled like a kid in a candy store. "Thank you, Kommandant," he said happily.

Klink slowly sat back down and started organizing the papers on his desk. "All right. All right. All right. You're welcome. Now get out. I have work to do."

"Yes, sir," Hogan replied with a sloppy salute before he followed the prisoners out of the office with Schultz behind them. Nobody noticed the smirk on his face as he left the Kommandantur with the others.

* * *

It was ten minutes after Schultz departed barracks two having informed the prisoners that Lieutenant Carpenter was assigned to the barracks by order of the Kommandant. Hogan glanced at his core unit as they eyed the new man with both curiosity and suspicion. Then, with arms folded around himself and a stern look on his face, Hogan turned his back on the Lieutenant and took a few steps away from the man, turned, then faced the younger man again.

"Stand at attention, Lieutenant," Hogan ordered with authority.

"Yes, sir," Carpenter said standing ramrod straight and saluting. He wondered what Hogan was doing.

Suddenly, Hogan approached the Lieutenant and allowed a smile to appear although the twinkle was gone from his brown eyes. "At ease, Terry," he said.

Smiling, Carpenter lowered his arm and stood at ease; then, he and Hogan hugged each other, slapping each other on the back before pulling apart.

"What are you doing here?" Hogan asked. "Last time I saw you, you were a junior in high school."

"That was a long time ago, Colonel," Carpenter replied with a grin. "And as far as what am I doing here, I should be asking you why are you in a camp for Noncoms?"

Hogan smirked. "The Krauts figured I would stop trying to escape if I was responsible for other men." He then became serious. "How's your father been?"

"He's doing well. Got promoted to Brigadier."

Hogan smiled. "Always believed your dad would make General one day. When did that happen?"

Terry exhaled deeply causing Hogan to sense something was very wrong. "Dad was badly injured during a confrontation with several Messerschmidt during a battle over London. He was hit in the knee by shrapnel and glass after his plane had been hit by enemy fire. He barely made it back to base. For a while they thought he might lose the leg entirely, and though he managed to recover, he couldn't fly anymore as he needs a cane to help him walk. He has a permanent limp due to the knee injury. Ironically, it was the same day that you were shot down over Germany."

Hogan swallowed the building lump in his throat. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Your father was one of the best pilots I'd ever seen. But he is all right otherwise?"

"Yes, sir," said Terry. "In fact, shortly after his promotion, he was assigned to work with a General Butler. He seemed like an okay guy. You know him?"

Before Hogan could reply, Newkirk interrupted. "Beggin' the Colonel's pardon, but is it safe to say you two know each other?"

Hogan chuckled. "Sorry, fellas. This is Lieutenant Terrance Michael Carpenter…my godson."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After the introductions, Hogan grabbed two coffee cups from the window sill, and poured half a cup of hot coffee in each. He handed one to Carpenter who accepted it gratefully and took a long drink, grimacing at the taste, while a contented smile appeared on Hogan's face.

"You'll be bunking with me," Hogan explained as he sat down at the table along with the others. He sat at the head of the table, with Carpenter seated beside Kinch and LeBeau on one side of the table, with Carter and Newkirk seated across from and facing them.

"So, Terry, you are mon Colonel's filleul?" asked LeBeau with a grin. Terry looked confused.

Newkirk rolled his eyes in exasperation staring at the Frenchman. "English, Louie. Speak bloody English, will ya?"

But before LeBeau apologized, Terry held up his hand and smiled. "If you're asking if I am the Colonel's godson, I am. I've known him all my life. In fact, it was thanks to him I was born."

LeBeau stared at the Englander as Newkirk rolled his eyes again before looking at Terry.

"What d'ya mean, mate?" he asked.

"You have to excuse them," Hogan explained taking a sip of coffee. "They missed their naptime, and when they're overtired they act like little children." He grinned as Terry chuckled.

"I took French in school and don't remember but a few words," he said. "I couldn't carry a conversation if my life depended on it." He chuckled looking at the men. "What I mean is, my father had been called away on duty while my mother was pregnant with me. The Colonel was home on leave when she went into labor, and she phoned him since she was alone. He got there as fast as possible and got her to the hospital in time. I made my appearance shortly afterward." Smirking, Terry jerked his head towards Hogan. "In fact, his ugly mug was the first one I saw after being born."

The men laughed as Hogan directed a dirty look at his godson.

"But honestly," Terry went on. "When my father arrived at the hospital, he and my mother decided to name the Colonel as my godfather."

"Boy," Carter said with a wide, child-like grin. "I bet you must have some real great stories about the Colonel."

Carpenter laughed heartily. "I have a few committed to memory."

Carter's boyish excitement was showing. "Do you have any we can hear?" he asked. "I mean, the Colonel never tells us anything about himself."

"Carter!" Newkirk stated pulling the young Sergeant's cap down over his eyes. "You can't ask bloody questions like that about the Gov'nor."

"Why not?" asked Carter pushing his cap back on his head.

"It's okay, guys," Carpenter says. "I can tell you some of the repeatable ones anyway." He pursed his lips as he thought for a few minutes and took another drink of coffee. A smile crossed his face.

Hogan sighed. "Don't you fellas have something to do?" he asked, cheeks tinged crimson believing he knew what story his godson was about to tell.

"No siree, boy," said Carter. "I mean uh, Colonel."

Carpenter patted Hogan on the shoulder. "C'mon, Colonel. You mean you never told your men how in high school, you took three women to the senior prom the same night?"

"What?!" Newkirk's eyes widened like saucers. "Three birds at once?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Wish I coulda seen that one."

"No you don't," Carpenter chuckled as he tried drinking his coffee without choking. From the corner of his eye Hogan gave him a dirty look and he knew he'd hear it later, but he didn't care right now.

"So don't keep the ruddy story to yourself," Newkirk said eagerly. "We need details, mate." Reaching inside his jacket, he removed a pack of cigarettes and held it out to Terry who waved a hand in the negative. Newkirk removed one himself, stuck it between his lips and lit it after placing the pack in front of him on the table. He took a long drag on his cigarette.

"Let's see," Carpenter began slowly. "Jenny Crenshaw, being the Colonel's current steady girlfriend during his senior year, expected him to ask her to the senior prom, and he did. But at the same time he dated Brenda Cavanaugh who told him she expected him to be her date for the prom, and not wanting to disappoint her, the Colonel said yes."

Kinch raised his eyebrows. "Two girls at the same time? That's asking for trouble."

"But it gets better," Carpenter replied with a grin. "The Colonel didn't know that a former girlfriend, Janie Bellows I think her name was, who had moved out of town, returned to attend the prom, and expected the Colonel to take her. Janie's father and the Colonel's father were extremely close friends, had been for several years. So, her father explained that his daughter was expecting the Colonel to take her to the prom as his date." He could see the guys were trying to stifle their laughter but were failing miserably. "You should have seen the Colonel's face when he found out he was to be Janie's date as well."

"So what happened then?" Kinch asked chuckling.

"Far as I could find out from the Colonel's father, the Colonel told him he believed he had a bit of a problem and already had a date with two other women for prom night."

"What did you end up doing, Colonel?" asked LeBeau, face red from laughter. "Which one did you end up taking?"

Hogan let his eyes wander around the room before finally falling on his godson. "Go ahead, Terry," he said. "Why stop with a cliffhanger?"

Carpenter smirked as he remembered. He paused long enough to take a drink of his coffee. "He ended up taking all three of them actually and became the envy of all the seniors there." Hogan glared at him, and he patted the older man on the shoulder. "Awww, don't feel bad," he joked. "I mean, you became the center of attention the minute you walked into the gym with your dates." He tried to stifle the laugh fighting to erupt.

"Sure I was," Hogan chuckled at the memory. "I was the only guy there with three dates fighting among themselves over who was really my date that night. I spent the entire evening listening to screaming women. I ended up leaving by myself and going home."

"My dad told me Janie's father was not happy with you at all seeing as his daughter had to take a cab home," Carpenter smirked.

"Neither was my dad," Hogan added. "It took him nearly two hours to calm down Mr. Bellows. Needless to say neither Janie, Brenda or Jenny ever spoke to me again after that night."

Kinch chuckled. "Can you blame them?"

"Wait, you haven't heard the best part," Carpenter said. "The next day, he felt so badly about what happened and was totally depressed. But another senior, Susie Davenport who had a crush on him since her sophomore year, made it her job to cheer him up, and she did." The men held their sides as they roared with laughter despite seeing Hogan's scowl.

"Well, since we're having a tell-all," began Hogan with a smirk on his face. "I remember something that happened when you were ten or eleven years old, I believe?" He arched an eyebrow seeing Terry's look of horror.

"Colonel, you wouldn't…." he practically begged Hogan to keep quiet.

"What happened, Colonel?" asked LeBeau, his face red from laughter. "Don't keep us in suspense."

Hogan tapped his fingers against his coffee cup playfully. "Well, Terry's father invited me over for a barbeque; me, him, his wife, Terry, and a childhood friend of Terry's. What you have to remember is that Terry's father, Michael, and I were both in the Air Force, but because of our schedules, we didn't see each other that much. Anyhow, while Terry's father and I were outside, Terry and his friend Darryl decided to go in the house and down to the basement and explore. Before long, they found these kerosene lamps and lit one of them on a stack of wooden crates so they could look around and play."

Terry blushing and chuckling, simply chewed his lower lip feigning a look of humiliation as Hogan continued.

"They stayed down there until we called for them to come outside and eat. These two…." the Colonel said gesturing with his head towards his godson, come running upstairs from the basement. When Terry's father asked where the boys had been all this time, this clown says they played in the basement but remembered to close the door. We didn't think any more about it until about thirty minutes later we notice smoke coming through the basement window which had been cracked open."

"Colonel," Kinch looked at Hogan. "You're not gonna tell us…"

Hogan nodded. "They forgot to put out the kerosene lamp and apparently when they slammed the basement door closed, the lamp fell over, broke, and the wooden crates caught fire. Fortunately, we put it out before too much damage happened." Hogan then looked at Carpenter. "You couldn't sit down for about a week after that."

"Dad was furious," said Terry, "And that's putting it mildly. And then I got the death glare from you afterwards. But you sat me down and talked to me." Terry's face softened and a small smile appeared as he looked deeply into Hogan's brown eyes. "Then afterwards, you hugged me and told me how glad you were that Darryl and I hadn't been hurt. I'd never seen you looked scared and angry at the same time."

Hogan got up and refilled his coffee cup. "I think my heart stopped," he said as he sat the coffee pot back on the stove. "Scared when I thought about what could have happened if that lamp had fallen over and the fire started while you two were still in the basement, and angry at your carelessness." He sat back down.

"Boy," Carter exclaimed. "That sounds like a painful lesson to learn."

"It was," Terry assured him. "My father had hard hands and to this day I can still feel how hard." Then, he suddenly put a hand on Hogan's arm. "Hey, remember Colonel Stapler?"

Hogan nearly choked on his coffee. "That bastard? What made you bring up his name?"

"Dad told me what you and he did to get back at the old buzzard."

"That sounds a bit naughty it does," teased Newkirk puffing on his cigarette.

"What happened mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau. He and the others enjoyed learning a few things about their commander's past.

Hogan sighed. "Terry's father and I were both Lieutenants at the time, and Colonel Stapler was our commanding officer. He was the kind of officer who, as Newkirk would so gently phrase it, a bloody bastard."

"That's one way I put it," Newkirk agreed with a smirk.

"Anyway, we had decided one day we had had enough of his attitude and treatments, so Michael and I decided to get even." Hogan looked at Terry. "Care to continue?"

"With pleasure, Colonel," Terry replied with a grin. "One day dad and the Colonel found out Colonel Stapler had an engagement in town. Now, they were in a building across from a small park where there were these two huge trees with a picnic table and benches. A few hours before he had to leave for his engagement, dad and the Colonel put Stapler's car in neutral, and pushed it across the parking lot into the park, and moved the picnic table and benches into his parking space." The guys laughed so hard tears began falling. Even Hogan chuckled at the memory as did Terry. The Lieutenant wiped at his eyes. "It gets better."

"There's more?" Kinch barely contained himself.

"As the Colonel and dad pushed the car across the parking lot with two other guys, three MPs caught them and they thought they were in deep trouble. The Colonel then explained what they were doing and why. Next thing they knew, the MPs are helping them move the car into the park. Seems Colonel Stapler had gotten on their nerves as well and they were only too glad to help."

"What happened, Colonel, when Colonel Stapler left the building?" asked LeBeau in a shaky voice.

Hogan took a drink of coffee. "Well, he was livid when he found a picnic table and two benches in his parking space and searched everywhere for his car. He finally found it stuck between those two large trees in the park. He then yelled for the MPs to find out who was responsible for doing it, and the MPs he asked happened to be the same ones who helped Michael and I move the car to begin with." Hogan found himself wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as laughter overtook him.

Terry fought to control himself. "And the funniest thing was every time Colonel Stapler wanted a progress report on those responsible for what happened to his car, he always got the same response; they were still looking and had no suspects."

"So did the Colonel ever find out your father and Colonel Hogan moved his car?" asked a red-faced Carter.

"Nope," Hogan replied having regained his composure finally. "Oh he threw out plenty of accusations, but to the day he retired, he never found out."

Newkirk snickered. "The Gov'nor was devious even back then, I'd say, chaps."

"Boy, was he ever," Carter agreed. "Must've been practice for what we do now." He suddenly yelped when a foot connected with his leg under the table.

"Carter, did your mum ever tell you children should be seen only?" said Newkirk.

"Sorry," Carter replied sheepishly, rubbing his leg. He spotted the subtle looks Hogan and Kinch gave him.

"You and your big mouth," LeBeau murmured in a low voice.

"For what we do now?" Terry asked looking at the men first and then Hogan. "What'd he mean, sir?"

"Nothing," Newkirk quickly responded. "He only means the Colonel here is devious with the things he comes up with to make life easier for us prisoners is all."

But Carpenter wasn't so sure. "Maybe. But my gut tells me there's something going on."

Hogan held up a hand insisting on silence. "We'll talk later," he said quietly. He then smiled and gripped the younger man's shoulder. "You must be tired. LeBeau, show the Lieutenant to my small corner of the world so he can rest a bit. We'll wake you when lunch is ready. By the way, I like the upper bunk."

Terry chuckled. "You always did like to be on top," he joked. Hogan gave him a dirty look. "Get some rest."

"Yes, sir," Terry replied as he got to his feet and followed LeBeau. He knew Hogan long enough that the Colonel would talk when and if ready. After the two men left the room, Hogan turned to Newkirk and Carter.

"Newkirk, check out the other three who came with Terry. Carter, when they go to the delousing station, check their clothes and boots. Make sure they're all American made."

"Yes, sir," both men replied.

"Colonel, what about your godson?" asked Kinch knowing he'd have to be careful. "Do you want us to check him out too, or do you want to handle it yourself?"

Hogan had both hands wrapped around his coffee cup with fingers tapping on the cup. After a few moments of silence, he raised his cup and took another drink. "No need. I've known Terry since birth and I trust him." He paused. "I trust I don't have to remind you fellas that nobody is to know Terry is my godson. It's too risky. To others, he's just another prisoner. Understood?" The men all acknowledged they did.

Hogan then looked at his radioman. "Kinch, contact London, and have them check out these names." He handed Kinch a slip of paper with the names of the other prisoners. "I want to know where they came from. Olsen, watch the door." The young Sergeant jumped down from his bunk, cracked open the barracks door, and stood watch.

"Right away, Colonel," Kinch replied as he started to his feet. He paused when Hogan spoke again.

"Also, after you do that, ask for General Butler. Tell him Lt. Terry Carpenter is safe and we'll get him and the others back to London as soon as possible, and to pass on the message about Terry to General Carpenter."

"Will do," Kinch replied and headed for the double bunk bed in the corner of the room. He struck the hidden mechanism and waited as the lower bunk covering their tunnel entrance rose and the ladder dropped.

Hearing a door open and close, Hogan, Carter and Newkirk looked around and spotted LeBeau coming towards them; he had a grin on his face.

"Your godson fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, Colonel," the Frenchman informed his commanding officer.

"Thanks, LeBeau," Hogan replied finishing his coffee. "Now, what's for lunch? I'm starved."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Lunch was delicious, LeBeau," Hogan commented sipping a cup of coffee still sitting at the table with Carter and Newkirk. Kinch was still below transmitting the information Hogan wanted to London, and LeBeau had finished washing the lunch dishes.

"Merci, mon Colonel," LeBeau replied drying and putting away the last of the dishes. He kept silent regarding the fact Hogan had not eaten much. Tossing the dishtowel over his shoulder, he approached the table. "Colonel, as your godson didn't come out for lunch, I made him a sandwich. Should I take it into him?"

"Take what in to me?" asked a sleepy voice before Hogan replied. Looking around, he and the others spotted a sleepy Terry yawning and running his hands down his face. He ran his hands over his dark blond hair smoothing it.

"You missed lunch so I made you a sandwich," remarked a smiling LeBeau.

"Then I woke up just in time," Terry announced sitting down beside Hogan. He coughed embarrassingly at the sound of his stomach rumbling. "Sorry." His mouth watered when LeBeau placed a plate in front of him with a sandwich thick with slices of beef, and a cup of hot coffee. Lifting the corner of the top slice of bread, Terry peeked underneath and then glanced questioningly at the Frenchman. "Where did you get real beef?" he asked.

"It's better if you don't know," Hogan teased with a side glance at the Lieutenant. He watched as the young man took a tentative bite of his sandwich before wolfing the entire sandwich down at once. He followed it by taking a drink of coffee and coughing at the bitter taste. "This is coffee?" he gasped staring at Hogan. How could his godfather savor the bitter brew? How did the older man even drink this swill?

"It's a step up from the watered down mud we tried," Newkirk added. "We just added a bit of LeBeau's seasoning to add a touch of flavor to it." Grinning at the Frenchman, Newkirk noticed the angry scowl. "Temper, temper, Louie. Remember, we have company."

Terry found himself chuckling at the duo. Apparently, all these men seemed close, especially Carter, Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk. And these four seemed especially close to Colonel Hogan which didn't surprise Terry whatsoever. Hogan always had a way of commanding those under him which ensured loyalty. He suddenly noticed Kinch wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Where's Kinch?" Terry asked.

"He's busy right now," Newkirk explained. "He'll be back later."

"Back from where?"

Terry noticed Newkirk and LeBeau exchange looks and turn to Hogan. So, he turned to Hogan as well for an answer.

Hogan shrugged as he took another drink of coffee. "He's handling something for me involving the prisoners. Kinch is my second-in-command."

Terry looked at Hogan in confusion. "He's your second-in-command? But he's a Sergeant."

"Heck," Carter explained with a lopsided grin. "Everybody here is under Colonel Hogan. In fact, he's the only officer in the entire camp." Terry's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot upward. "This is a camp for noncoms afterall."

Terry slowly took a drink of coffee and managed to not gag this time. "Colonel, I asked you about this before, but I'm gonna ask it again. Why are you in a camp for noncoms only?"

"I told you," Hogan replied.

"But I'd like to know the truth, sir. What is an officer like you doing in a camp like this? I mean, I understand there are camps specifically for officers, and Stalag 13 isn't one of 'em."

"So I've been told," Hogan quipped. "Besides, you're here." Terry was about to ask another question, but Hogan held up a hand, his face remaining impassive. "When you're up to it, Terry, you can be taken on a tour of our lovely garbage dump. The delousing station is really quite elegant in the evening when the sun sets."

"Maybe later. Colonel, I know we haven't seen each other for awhile, but I'd like to think you know you still can trust me with anything, no matter what."

"I know that, Terry." Hogan drained his coffee cup and sat it down on the table in front of him.

Exhaling deeply, Terry started to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll return to my quarters and rest." He smiled sadly. "Whenever you want to give me the guided tour, just come and get me." He started walking away only to stop when he felt Hogan's hand on his arm. He turned his head to look back at his godfather.

"Guys, if Kinch returns, tell 'im to wait." Hogan got to his feet. "Terry, we need to talk in my quarters." Hogan led the way in the direction of the smaller room, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Alone in Hogan's quarters, Hogan gestured for Terry to have a seat on the lower bunk. He himself pulled out the chair from his desk, turned it around and straddled it, arms resting on its back. He faced the younger man taking a deep breath before staring at his godson as if organizing his thoughts first.

"Terry, first, I do trust you. It's just that I've looked after you most of your young life and always felt responsible for you from the moment you were born. It was love at first sight."

"I know, Rob," Terry replied with a smile. "You've always been like a second father to me." Still, he couldn't put his finger on what was different about Hogan.

Hogan smiled warmly. "I guess I just had a difficult time admitting especially to myself that you are a young man, a Lieutenant, and definitely not a child. But I still feel responsible for you, and promised your father when you joined the military that I would look out for you, and do my best to keep you safe from harm."

"I understand that. And don't think I don't appreciate you looking out for me. But I can handle myself. I'm an officer and responsible for my own men. Just like you and dad." He saw Hogan smile.

"Yes. Just like me and your dad. Which brings me to my first question. Why are you even here? We didn't hear any planes being shot down or the guards say anything about new prisoners."

Terry exhaled deeply and for a moment, stared down at his hands clasped between his knees. He nervously rubbed them together before looking up again.

"Rob, what I'm going to tell you is classified, but I trust you with my life. Always have. But first you must promise me what I tell you will stay between us."

Hogan's eyes narrowed. "Of course. But despite that, you don't have to tell me anything about your mission if you aren't comfortable."

Terry sighed. "It's not that. My superiors would shoot me if they found out I even told anyone. But I don't think they would object to me telling you." He paused for a few seconds. "Have you ever heard of Operation Bull's Eye?"(1)

"I don't get much news in here," Hogan replied. Searching his memory, Hogan honestly admitted to himself that he had no knowledge of Operation Bull's Eye.

"It was conceived by Prime Minister Churchill and Air Chief Marshal Arthur Colburn."(2)

"Old Hotshot?" asked Hogan arching both eyebrows being familiar with the man's nickname when he was part of the Lend-Lease program with the RAF.

Terry chuckled. "Yes, Old Hotshot himself was part of it. Operation Bull's Eye was an aerial bombing campaign on Emden. It commenced on May twentieth, and planned to continue through May thirtieth. It was classified so London maintained radio silence during that timeframe to make certain there were no leaks of any kind."

Thinking back, Hogan recalled the unusual message from London about their going on radio silence for eleven days. He recalled asking why this lengthy silence, and all London would tell him was it was necessary and that was all.

"Continue."

"The air raid was suppose to last several days and nights," Terry continued. "I was assigned to the Eighth Air Force under General Gary Fryer. The B-17s were to bomb the U-boat pens, shipyards, and the airplane engine factories the day after the RAF knocked out the radar systems. We took off on May twentieth and met with heavy resistance losing several planes, including mine. It was suppose to be nonstop bombing, and I have no idea if the rest of the operation was successful or not. I only hope it was. I'd hate to think we lost men and planes for nothing."(3)

Hogan whistled as he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. From what he had just been told, he understood why London went on radio silence for so long. An operation of that size called for it. If the Germans had gotten wind of the operation, the large numbers of casualties could have been American.

"And what about the others who arrived here with you? Toller, Segal, and Dray?"

Terry exhaled deeply. "There were originally five of us. Max and I were on one plane, Lieutenant Colonel Snyder was the pilot. Michael and Walt we stumbled across after Max, Colonel Snyder and I bailed out. Seems they were hit as well. We never found anybody else from either of our planes. Colonel Snyder kept us together and took charge. We managed to avoid capture by patrols although I don't know how. And by keeping to the woods and back roads, we finally reached an abandoned farmhouse where we managed to hide out for a few days before moving on again."

"How did you get to Hammelburg and Stalag 13 from Emden? That's no walk through the park."

"We walked on foot most of the time, stopping wherever possible to not get caught. We also uh, stole food wherever possible so we wouldn't starve. But while traveling in the woods one night, we were surprised by a Gestapo patrol. They stopped right in front of where we were hiding pinning us down although they didn't realize we were there. They looked like they were prepared to stay awhile. Colonel Snyder decided to lead them away from where we were so we could get away and promised to meet up with us later. Before we could stop him, he moved a safe distance away from where we were before he let himself be seen, and led the patrol in the opposite direction. We could hear shouting and gunshots in the distance, and then all went quiet. After waiting an hour for the Colonel to show, I ordered the others to stay put while I went to find him, and stumbled across his bullet-riddled body a few yards from where we had been originally."

"I'm sorry. Sounds like a brave man."

Terry took a deep breath and exhaled. "One of the best. Anyway, the rest of us continued on, and soon found ourselves at a small farm someplace. The family there turned out to be members of the underground and told us if we got to Stalag 13 in Hammelburg, somebody named Papa Bear would get us out of Germany and back to England. We traveled from one rendezvous spot to the next. We allowed ourselves to be captured near Hammelburg, and here we are."

"Well, at least you're alive and unhurt," Hogan admitted. "But our medic will check you out later today."

"But Rob, none of us are hurt."

"Humor an old man, will you?" asked Hogan with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Yes, sir. Now it's your turn. Why are you here? And how come this Papa Bear didn't get you out of here and back to England if he has that ability?"

Hogan removed his crush cap, ran a hand over his thick black hair, and put his cap back on his head. He let out a deep breath.

"This is not easy to explain. And like you, what I tell you remains between us. It's classified. What I told you before was true. I had tried many times to escape from other camps, until the Krauts figured the best way to keep me in line was to give me a command. So, I was transferred from the Oflag where I was incarcerated and transferred here. I am the Senior POW officer of Stalag 13."

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, but from what little I've seen of this camp, its Kommandant and guards, a child could escape from here. I can't believe there's never been an escape from this place."

"Stalag 13 is not your normal prisoner-of-war camp."

"I can see this for myself."

"We don't allow escapes."

Terry's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot upward. "You can't be serious! How can you do this to your men? What's happened to you since you've become a prisoner? What did the Nazis do to you?" He looked concerned.

"Nobody did anything to me. The no escape policy includes me too. I can't leave here either because…"

"Look, Rob. I don't know what's going on with you. But if this Papa Bear is gonna get me out of Germany somehow, you are coming with me. I won't leave you here to rot in this…this backwater sewer."

"Terry, let me explain to you why…"

"This Papa Bear, whoever he is, can't be too effective. How could he not see you are a valuable officer and get you back to London? I mean, if it's a question of your men here, can't he get them out as well as you?"

Hogan chuckled. "Terry, this isn't easy to explain. Y'see, Kinch is my second-in-command as I told you, and he's also in charge of communications; LeBeau is a cook and a tailor; Newkirk is a jack-of-all-trades, and Carter, well, he's my demolitions man and does a mean impersonation of German officers when needed." He saw Terry was still confused.

"Rob, what are you trying to tell me?"

"Terry, what I'm trying to tell you is my code-name is Papa Bear."

* * *

(1) Operation Bull's Eye was based loosely on Operation Gomorrah which was an aerial bombing campaign on Hamburg causing one of the greatest firestorms raised by the RAF and the USAAF during World War 2. The resulting firestorm resulted in 42, 600 dead, and 37,000 injured, and the city of Hamburg nearly destroyed.

(2) Air Chief Marshal Arthur Colburn is an OC created by me.

(3) The B-17s are the Flying Fortress bombers of the USAAF.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_You_ are Papa Bear?" asked Terry disbelievingly. "You. Robert Hogan."

"We run what is called a Traveler's Aid Society from inside Stalag 13. We aid downed flyers getting out of Germany, a little espionage, and when necessary, a little sabotage."

"But you don't know anything about espionage or sabotage. You're a bomber pilot."

"On the job training," Hogan kidded, then became serious. "Look, I'm gonna be honest with you. At the time I was shot down over Hamburg over two years ago, I was nearing the total number of missions before I was to be rotated and reassigned. I more than likely would have been given a desk job which would have driven me crazy."

Terry rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe, Rob. But at least you'd have a better chance of staying alive. But this? This is absolutely crazy!"

Hogan slowly got up from his chair, and pulled at the ribbed section at the bottom of his leather jacket. He smirked. "I won't say the job isn't risky, but it keeps us off the streets. Care for the guided tour?"

Terry got to his feet. "Where are we going?"

"To see our downstairs apartment of course." Hogan, with his godson following, left his quarters and entered the common room. Their eyes fell at once on Kinch who was seated at the table with LeBeau, Newkirk, and Carter. Kinch stood as his commanding officer approached, reached into his jacket pocket, and removed a small notepad. Holding it in his hands, he glanced nervously at the younger man standing behind the Colonel. Hogan glanced over his shoulder then turned back to his radioman with what appeared to Carpenter to be a forced grin. "It's okay, Kinch. I told 'im."

"Yes, sir," Kinch said still a bit nervous. The radioman relayed the information from London on the four men which confirmed what the Lieutenant had told Hogan. Kinch added that General Carpenter was thrilled that his son was safe, alive, and knew he'd be safe with Hogan. The Colonel exhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Kinch, do me a favor, will you? Take Terry downstairs and give him the guided tour of our operation?"

"Yes, sir." Kinch motioned with an arm for Terry to follow him. Uncertain, the young man joined Kinch and followed him in the direction of the double bunk. Terry watched Kinch slap the frame of the upper bunk twice. The radioman chuckled watching Terry step back, caught unawares, watching the lower bunk rise, and the frame doubling as a ladder lower.

* * *

Several hours later, Terry was back in the Colonel's quarters, seated on the lower bunk with Sergeant Joe Wilson examining him. As Wilson was checking his blood pressure, Terry sighed.

"Something wrong?" asked Wilson, glancing up at the other man.

"Did you examine the men I came here with yet?"

"Not yet. You're first." He removed the blood pressure cuff. "Your pressure's a bit high but nothing to worry about at the moment. Considering what the Colonel told me you've been through, I'm surprised it isn't higher."

"Thanks."

"So you're the Colonel's godson, Lieutenant?" Wilson asked.

"That's me."

"I sense you have a question you want to ask me?"

"Yeah. It's a question about Colonel Hogan."

Wilson sighed as he removed his stethoscope from his bag. "Any questions about the Colonel you should really ask him."

"It's not anything personal. It's just…what I mean is, one of the Colonel's men took me on a tour below the barracks. I must admit it's overwhelming the first time you see it in person."

"It can be," Wilson agreed placing the flat disc over Terry's heart. "Be quiet for a moment." He listened to the young man's heart. "Heart's in good shape." He tossed the stethoscope back in his bag. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, I was thinking about a few of the things the Colonel told me he and his team do. I guess what I want to ask is…I mean, with you being the camp medic and all, is he taking care of himself? He doesn't get hurt doing this craziness, does he?"

"I won't lie to you. The Colonel and the others have, on occasion, been injured. But I patch them up as best I can and everybody has recovered each time. I understand you being worried about him, Lieutenant, but Colonel Hogan knows what he's doing no matter how crazy his schemes sometimes sound." Wilson closed up his medical bag. "If you still have questions, I suggest you speak with the Colonel if you want to know anything else about his operation." Picking up his medical bag, Wilson smiled before grabbing the doorknob and opening the door only to run into Colonel Hogan who was entering.

"How is he, Joe?" Hogan asked.

"Blood pressure's a bit high, but other than that he's fine, Colonel," Wilson explained. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go check on the other three men." He passed Hogan by as he exited. Hogan entered the smaller room closing the door behind him.

"I'm glad he's gone, Rob," Terry said as he sat down on the lower bunk. "I really need to speak with you. It's about what you're doing."

"I figured you would after the tour. Kinch told me you asked a lot of questions. Ask away and I'll try and answer what I can as best as I can. I suggest you keep in mind what we do here is classified so there will be a lot I can't tell you. But first let me say what you've seen and told you cannot reveal to anybody; not even the men you arrived here with, nor anybody back home. Absolutely nobody. If you do, there's always a chance you might let something slip accidentally, it makes its way back to the Krauts, and we've had it. That way, there's less chance of a leak." Hogan sat down in the chair Wilson had vacated. Hogan held up a hand when he noticed Terry about to open his mouth. "One other thing before you ask me anything. There's something I need to know. Who else knows you're my godson?"

Terry shrugged. "Nobody, Rob. Nobody except Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk, and your medic, Wilson. I didn't want any special favors from people because they knew I was your godson, so I omitted that fact. Why?"

"I suggest you keep that knowledge to yourself as well. The Germans, especially our friendly neighborhood Gestapo would love to have that information. Our resident Gestapo nut, Major Hochstetter, would have a field day. He's been after me since day one trying to prove I'm responsible for the sabotage in this area. If he discovered our connection, he would use you to get to me. So for your own safety, keep this info to yourself."

"Understood," Terry replied. "Sounds like you've previously dealt with him."

Hogan smirked. "We have. But he's never been able to prove anything. All he has is suspicions."

Terry jumped up from his seat. "That's just the problem, Rob. You're taking too many risks doing this. You said so yourself this Gestapo Major has suspicions but no proof. How long before he gets proof? What if one of your men talks? What then? Can't you be a normal POW and sit out the rest of the war?"

Hogan didn't respond right away. He understood how Terry felt and why; the young man was scared for him and Hogan realized that. Hell, he was scared at times though he would never admit it to anybody.

"First, I have never been one to 'sit out' as you call it, the rest of the war while others carry on the fighting around me. Second, the risks my men take aren't any greater than the ones I take myself. I would never ask them to do anything I am not willing to do myself to defeat Hitler and win this war. Third, none of my men would talk."

"Everybody has a breaking point, Rob. Even you."

"Every man here is willing to give his life for others, including myself. Those men you met before, they are willing to die for what they believe in, and I to protect them. And as far as Major Hochstetter is concerned, we never leave any link to us for him to find. It's to the point where his superiors believe he's obsessed with me and this camp."

"But General Butler can…"

"Terry, General Butler is my commanding officer in London."

"Whoa, wait a minute. General Butler knows about this operation of yours?"

"He does."

"And here I thought he was an okay guy," Terry said with a shake of his head. "He's as nuts as you are." He stood in front of Hogan and put his hands on the older man's shoulders. "Rob, I wish you'd listen to reason. This is complete and utter craziness. You are a bomber pilot, not a spy or a saboteur. If anything were to happen to you…"

Hogan patted one of the hands resting on his shoulders. He looked into the eyes of Carpenter and saw the fear and worry in them.

"I'm going to say this one more time. I am in charge of this operation here, and will stay here until either the war ends and we're liberated, or we're found out. And should we be found out, I will do everything I can to evacuate this camp before something bad happens. My orders are very specific, and that is to assist escaping prisoners, cooperate with all friendly forces, and use every means to harass and injure the enemy."

Terry sighed as he let his hands drop and turned away from Hogan. He plopped back down on the lower bunk with arms resting on his thighs, and hands clasped between his legs. "I understand," he replied looking down at his hands. "I suppose this is what Carter meant when he said your gift of gab was practice for what you do now." He paused. "You have your orders to follow and you always were one to follow orders even if you didn't necessarily agree with them." He lifted his head and stared at Hogan. "Just promise me one thing."

Hogan let a small smile appear. "I'll be careful. I promise."

Terry smiled. "That's all I ask. Afterall, once you get home after the war, you promised to let me help you fix up that old motorcycle of yours, and then you and I are gonna race on the old dirt road near your parents' home."(1) He paused for a few moments mulling over what he wanted to say next. "I only have one other thing to say, Rob," he added.

"What's that?"

Terry smiled. "I'm proud of you. Only you could find a way to fight the Nazis right under their own feet. I don't know whether I could do the same."

Hogan was about to answer when there was a knock on his door. It opened once Hogan gave the command to enter. Kinch looked in, a serious expression on his face.

"What is it, Kinch?" Hogan asked looking at the radioman.

Walking into the room, Kinch handed Hogan a folded piece of blue paper. Taking it, Hogan unfolded the paper and read the written message. He looked up at his radioman. "Are they serious?"

"I had questions about it, too, Colonel. So I had them repeat it five times to make certain I heard correctly. They said the same thing each time."

"Said what each time?" asked Terry looking back and forth between the two men.

Hogan let out a deep breath, and his body seemed to stiffen momentarily. "London wants us to blow up a new ball bearing plant about to go into production in Schweinfurt within forty-eight hours."

Terry looked amazed. "Schweinfurt's about 40 km away from Hammelburg. How the hell would you get there? Better yet, how would you get out of here?"

Hogan stuffed his hands in his back pants pockets as he smirked at the Lieutenant. "We'll just hitch a ride with the help of Kommandant Klink." As Terry stared in utter amazement at Hogan, the Colonel looked at his radioman. "Kinch, find LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk and have everybody come here. I have an idea that just might work."

"Yes, sir." Kinch hurriedly left the room to go about his assigned task.

Terry watched as Hogan walked over to the double bunk in his room, reached under the bed frame of the upper bunk, and rolled down a map, surprising him. He got close and studied the aerial map. He looked back at the Colonel in disbelief. But before he could say anything, the door opened, and in walked Kinch followed by the others.

"Kinch said you wanted us, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk puffing on a lit cigarette. He closed the door once everybody was inside the room.

"Yeah," Hogan replied moving over to the map. Terry moved out of the way and sat down on the edge of the Colonel's desk watching and listening. "We have an assignment from London. They want us to blow up a ball-bearing plant that's about to begin operation in Schweinfurt in two days."

"Schweinfurt?" echoed Newkirk with raised eyebrows. "That'd take us at least thirty minutes to get there and thirty minutes back."

"I know," Hogan explained. "That's why we're going out tomorrow night after roll call. Kinch, we need to borrow a truck from the motor pool. Get us a good price with the guard. And don't let 'im jack up the price on you."

"Understood," Kinch replied.

"Okay," Hogan began, pointing to a spot on the map. "Here we are. And here's Schweinfurt. All we need to do is drive into the plant as inspectors ordered by General Burkhalter to inspect the new plant before the start of operation. Only we'll be planting explosives with timers set to blow hours after we're back in camp. I want everybody here and present when that plant blows." He glanced at each man separately. "Carter, we'll need about one dozen explosives with delayed timers. Newkirk, I want you and LeBeau to make sure there are Luftwaffe uniforms for both of you, Carter, and myself."

"Consider it done, Gov'nor."

"We move out tomorrow night after roll call," Hogan added. "Now, any questions?" As Hogan looked around at his men he noticed Terry give him a look indicating he wanted to speak with him. "Okay." Hogan gave the map a quick pull and watched it roll up out of sight. "That's all until later, fellas." He glanced at the Lieutenant. "I need to speak with the Lieutenant so, could you give us a few minutes?"

Acknowledging their commanding officer's orders, the men all left Hogan's quarters leaving the two men alone. Hogan sat on the edge of his desk with arms crossed in front of him. "I can tell something's bothering you. Talk to me. What's on your mind?"

"Well, I'd like to see what you actually do when on a mission. I guess what I'm saying is that I would like to continue the fight against the Nazis if this is gonna be my home for now. I'd like to come with you."

"Absolutely not!" Hogan insisted with a touch of anger in his voice. "Terry, you just arrived here in camp, you haven't even had a chance to adjust to being here yet. And I promised your father I would keep you safe until I got you back to London. I will not let you risk your life before then."

"But Rob…"

"The matter is closed and is not subject for discussion again."

From past experience, Terry knew when Hogan refused to discuss something further, he had made up his mind and nothing would make him budge. All he could do is see what Robert Hogan did prior to a mission and pay close attention to everything. He swore to himself that he wanted to go with Hogan on at least one mission before returning to England so he could get a better understanding of exactly what it was his godfather did, and how much he was willing to risk to see that he succeeded.

* * *

(1) The mention of Hogan's motorcycle is from the episode Bad Day in Berlin, Season 4.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hogan lay on his upper bunk, an arm draped across his eyes, head pounding mercilessly, as did the unexplainable urge to lash out in anger. His headache began during his talk with Terry, and he had been grateful when the young man decided to cut their conversation short and take the promised tour of Stalag 13. Grateful because he didn't have to explain his recurring headache, nor remember what happened six months ago.

He also found himself tired all the time and not really wanting to do anything but sleep most of the time. In fact, whenever he did try and sleep, he found sleep wouldn't come. He had to force himself to go to bed which became harder and harder of late. It seemed the more the days went on, the more exhausted he became from lack of rest. The sadness came seemingly at will the past few months; often without warning, and often at the least opportune of times. Despite several months having gone by, the event continued replaying in his mind causing the sorrow.

_**(Flashback):**_

Hogan sat with Kinch and LeBeau on the bench outside barracks two watching the volleyball game in which Carter and Newkirk participated. It had been a few days since the night in question, and LeBeau still had not forgiven him. In fact, the little Frenchman gave him the cold shoulder, and when he tried to talk to him, LeBeau refused. The others, for now anyway, kept out of the tense situation between Hogan and LeBeau, hoping it would soon resolve itself and the two men became friends again. They hated seeing their commanding officer and one of their own at odds with each other. It not only created tension within the team, but many of the men in barracks two were choosing sides.

Hogan rubbed his forehead as the headache was now in full force, and struggled to keep his emotions under control. He rubbed at one eye as if he had something in it. But it didn't escape Kinch's observant eyes. In the aftermath of that night, Kinch, Carter and Newkirk had kept a close eye on their commanding officer as he showed signs of mourning more than did the others. The camp medic had spent many days and nights checking on and speaking with Hogan who seemed to be taking things harder than the others; also, Newkirk spent much free time as well talking with LeBeau about the incident itself. He kept pointing out LeBeau's baseless accusations only made matters worse for the Colonel. Even Wilson tried talking with the Frenchman; neither had any luck.

"You all right, Colonel?" Kinch asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Hogan's voice was a bit strained. "I just got something in my eye. Excuse me." He got to his feet and hurried inside under the watchful eye of Kinch. LeBeau, with arms crossed across his chest, didn't seem interested and avoided looking at his commanding officer as he entered the barracks. Kinch sadly shook his head.

"LeBeau, when is this feud between you and Colonel Hogan gonna stop? Can't you see what you're doing to him? You know he's not to blame for what happened, so why are you still on his back about what happened?"

LeBeau looked at his friend. "Why am _I _still on his back?" His eyes hardened. "Because he _is_ to blame. The sooner he realizes he is the sooner I will get off his back as you say. I could have done something if he hadn't stopped me, but he did. You apparently have trouble with that, and it is too bad."

"LeBeau, I know you realize if you had tried you would have died as well. Are you gonna ever get that through your thick skull?"

"You do not understand, mon ami."

Kinch shook his head. "You're right. I don't understand holding a grudge."

LeBeau mumbled something under his breath and turned away from Kinch in anger.

**(**_**End of Flashback)**_

* * *

Hogan understood the headache, the sadness, the grief. He let out a deep breath as the emotions became overwhelming. And when they did, he made certain to be alone in his quarters as he didn't know how he would react when they burst forth, and he rather not have witnesses.

He sat up on the bunk, swinging his legs over the edge before jumping down to the floor. Making his way to his closet, he reached for an upper shelf, and removed a small bottle of aspirin. He shook out two pills into his hand and swallowed them dry before placing the bottle back on the shelf. He rubbed his forehead again. But no amount of aspirin would erase what happened from his mind.

The sadness of that night was barely controllable anymore, and seemed to last for longer periods when it did appear. Up to two months ago, Hogan had been able to keep control so it was only visible when he was alone. But of late, the sadness manifested itself all the time now. The hard part these days was keeping his recurring sadness from the observant eyes of his men, and from Wilson who now periodically checked on him since that night. And Hogan refused to believe it was anything more than recurring mourning; nothing more, nothing less. In fact, it was getting harder and harder to control his emotions. Even making up with LeBeau hadn't changed anything. Walking back in the direction of the bunk beds, Hogan laid down on the lower bunk for a change and closed his eyes, hoping and failing miserably to keep the images at bay.

The image never left his mind's eye. He would never be able to see or listen to an explosion again without having flashbacks. It wasn't suppose to happen. There weren't suppose to be any problems. The damage from the force of the explosion was too much, and the aftermath forever seared into his memory.

Hogan's eyes opened again. The explosion. He just couldn't forget. Sitting up again, he buried his head in his hands as the grief became overwhelming, consuming him.

* * *

Terry walked around the compound in the company of Kinch and Newkirk, but his mind was still on Hogan.

"Something on your mind, mate?" asked Newkirk who had been observing the Lieutenant the entire time. In many ways, the young man reminded him of the American Colonel.

"It's the Colonel," Terry replied trying to keep his voice low so other prisoners and guards wouldn't hear. "I guess I still haven't wrapped my brain around what he told me yet."

Kinch stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pea green jacket. He also noticed Hogan's mannerisms in the Lieutenant. "I'd be careful what I talk about out in the open like this."

"Why?"

Kinch motioned with his head in the direction of barracks two. Terry and Newkirk followed until they were back outside the hut and sat down on the bench.

"To answer your question," Kinch began softly. "Everybody in barracks two is involved in the operation, but not everybody else in camp is."

"In fact," Newkirk continued. "Several of the blokes in camp aren't even aware of the operation. All they've been told is that the Gov'nor insisted they not escape without his permission 'cause it would draw unwanted attention to us, as well as to Klink."

"What has Kommandant Klink got to do with what you do?"

"It's simple. Colonel Hogan really runs Stalag 13 and everybody knows it, including the guards. He also has Klink wrapped around his little finger and can manipulate him like nobody else. We simply keep Klink around as a figurehead letting people believe he's the one in charge. Plus the truth is that if Klink's ego got bruised and he found out what was really happening around here, we'd all be falling down in front of a firing squad."

"He has a golden tongue, the Gov'nor. He could sell ice to a bleedin' Eskimo he could." Newkirk saw Terry chuckle at the inference. "Anyway, we have to keep ole Klink in charge. As strange as it sounds, keeping ole Blood 'n Guts is essential to our operation continuing."

"What about the guards? Especially the large one. Schultz if I remember correctly."

Newkirk rolled his eyes towards the heavens. "A few of the guards aren't tame. But the ole barrage balloon isn't a problem."

"What do you mean?" Terry turned back and forth between the two men. "Do you bribe him?" The three men went silent as an armed guard walked past eying them warily as he did so. Both Kinch and Newkirk stared hard at him as he disappeared around the corner of the barracks and out of sight. Terry at once caught on that this guard wasn't one of the tame ones and remained quiet.

"Bribe is not the word I would use when it comes to Schultzie," said Newkirk.

"Newkirk's right," Kinch agreed. "It's more like supply and demand."

Terry's eyes widened. "Supply and demand? I don't understand."

"Easy," said Kinch. "We supply candy bars, LeBeau's cooking, apple strudel, along with whatever goodies we get in our Red Cross packages. We also tell 'im things he shouldn't know."

"And in exchange, we demand certain information from Schultzie which he gives no matter how reluctantly," added Newkirk. Terry shook his head and chuckled.

"There's still so much the Colonel didn't tell me," he said. "And he is what you called the idea man?"

"That's our Gov'nor. He comes up with many of the craziest schemes."

* * *

Hogan now lay on his side on the upper bunk, staring vacantly at the closed window. His body was tired. Slowly sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge. He understood the importance to pull himself together in case his godson or one of his men showed. The one thing he didn't need was somebody asking questions, nor did he want to explain anything to anybody.

As he ran his hands down his handsome face, Hogan exhaled deeply. He was just so tired and needed to sleep, yet, he managed to hide that knowledge from prying eyes. Also, the sadness had not gone away this time. The more he thought about it, the more he believed a nap might make the sadness go away. So, he stretched back out on the thin mattress on his side. Tucking a bent arm under his head, Hogan closed his eyes and tried to have a restful sleep for once.

_**(Flashback):**_

The mission would be a fairly simple one. The order from London was to blow up the Schermerhorn Bridge, located about ten miles from Stalag 13. The bridge itself was not a large bridge, but according to London, it was used not only for foot traffic, but by military vehicles and tanks. Hogan decided the job would be carried out after final roll call in twenty-four hours. He instructed Carter to have about eight sets of explosives and timers ready by tomorrow night, and that everybody was going.

"You got it, boy…uh, Colonel. I'll give you eight of the best noisemakers you ever saw," Carter replied eagerly. He always became too excited when talking about his explosives.

"Okay, Carter," Hogan cut Carter off before he started rambling about his bombs. He then looked at his men. "This mission should be a breeze."

"That means there's gonna be trouble," Newkirk smirked.

Hogan crossed his arms across his chest. "There's always one in every crowd," he smirked at Newkirk. "The Schermerhorn Bridge is vacant of foot traffic after a certain hour in the evening by law. The Krauts use it at night to move tanks and arms to their troops. By the time we show up, there'll be no civilians on the bridge."

_**(End of Flashback)**_

Hogan awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his face. The explosion. The destruction. The pain in his head intensified as the sounds of the explosions reverberated in his mind. He recalled the upcoming mission in Schweinfurt. How was he going to get through those explosions again without remembering? Perhaps he shouldn't go with the men. He could always claim he had to be present in camp in case something happened while the others were gone and Klink demanded to see him. But he dismissed that idea almost as quickly as he thought of it. Not only might the men question his sudden change of heart, but might even suspect his grief from the earlier mission had something to do with it and summon Wilson. No. Hogan realized he had no choice but to go with the men on this mission.

He jumped down from the upper bunk and began pacing anxiously back and forth. Anger was permeating his body again, but this time Hogan managed to hold it in check, but knew it wouldn't last. Soon, he believed, the floodgate would break, and his emotions would spill over like water over a dam, and he was liable to explode. He stuck his hands in his back pants pockets.

No sooner had he began pacing again, then there was a gentle knock on his door. Hogan stopped and stared at the door nervously. He couldn't let whoever was knocking on the door to see his red, puffy eyes. He quickly turned toward his desk, going through several papers which lay on it.

"Enter," he used his most authoritative voice although a bit shaky. The door opened and Hogan waited.

"Mon Colonel? I thought you might be hungry as you didn't eat much at lunch so I brought you a sandwich and a cup of coffee."

"Thanks, LeBeau, but I'm not really not hungry. But you can leave the coffee. Just put it on my footlocker." There was no movement from the diminutive Frenchman, and Hogan turned his head ever so slightly over his shoulder. "LeBeau? Did you hear me?"

"Oui. I did. It's just…well, permission to speak openly, Colonel?"

"Sure. You can speak to me about anything," Hogan replied keeping his back to the Frenchman.

"Mon Colonel, you have seemed, how do you Americans say, a bit off. I feel I am still somehow to blame for this. It has not been that long ago we were not speaking and I was very hard on you."

Hogan swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "LeBeau, you don't need to feel sorry about anything. What happened between us is over and has been for several months. Or did you forget I forgave you for your anger?"

"Non, I did not forget. But you still seemed a bit off today. If I am not responsible somehow, Colonel, perhaps it's because your godson is here?"

"I am concerned about Terry being here, I won't deny that. But if you must know, I have a lot on my mind about this upcoming mission. I must make sure nothing goes wrong like before."

"But that wasn't your fault!" LeBeau said in a slightly louder voice than he planned.

Hogan took a deep breath as he felt his protective wall beginning to crumble, and knew his emotions would soon begin to overcome him again. He had to get rid of LeBeau and quickly.

"I know that. I do. It's just that I have a lot to think about with the mission, protecting Terry, and finding a way to get him and the others he came with back to London. Now, just leave the coffee…and the sandwich, on my footlocker, and leave me alone."

Oui, Colonel," LeBeau replied sounding sad. Out of the corner of his eye, Hogan observed the Frenchman walking over to his footlocker and sitting the plate with the sandwich and coffee mug down, then turning away. Hogan allowed his eyes to follow LeBeau as he left the smaller room and closed the door leaving the officer alone in his room again.

Hogan let out a deep breath as he covered his eyes with one hand and finally felt the tears begin to fall as he choked back a sob.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Later that same day, Hogan had pulled himself together enough to leave his quarters and place his empty saucer in the sink. He proceeded to the stove still carrying his mug, poured himself half a cup of coffee, and sat down across from LeBeau. A small smile appeared on the smaller man's face seeing his commanding officer.

"Mon Colonel, I am so glad you are up and around again. I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm sorry if I caused you to worry, LeBeau. I didn't mean to," Hogan said. "Where's Carter?"

"I won't worry if you tell me not to, Colonel. Andre went to his lab to start working on the explosives necessary for tomorrow. As far as tomorrow night goes, nothing will go wrong. I am sure."

"Ummm," Hogan murmured continuing to drink his coffee. He sat the mug down in front of him and held it with both hands. He sighed loudly staring into space. "I wish I was as sure as you are. The time…"

LeBeau placed a hand on his commanding officer's arm. "That's because it was a bridge, mon Colonel. This is a ball-bearing plant. There is a difference."

A weak lopsided smile appeared on Hogan's face as he picked up his coffee mug. "You're right." The two men turned hearing the door of the hut open, and in walked Kinch, Newkirk, and Carpenter. Both Kinch and Newkirk grabbed coffee cups and helped themselves while Carpenter sat down beside Hogan.

"So, how was the guided tour of Stalag 13?" asked Hogan with a sideways glance at his godson.

Carpenter shrugged. "Okay I guess. I mean, from what I've seen so far, the prisoners could walk out the front gate before the guards noticed anybody missing." The others chuckled at his remarks as Newkirk and Kinch sat down beside LeBeau.

"It's not quite _that_ easy," Kinch said with a grin. He saw LeBeau look at him and subtly tilt his head towards Hogan and understood the hidden meaning.

Kinch rested his coffee cup on the table in front of him and rested his arms on the table. "You okay, Colonel?" he asked casually so as not to attract attention.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask? Don't I look fine to you?" The sadness came on again and Hogan had to pretend everything was all right. He didn't want anybody to realize how he felt, but it was a struggle.

"You look fine, Colonel. I just thought I'd ask since this assignment is another sabotage mission, and…" Kinch asked.

"Trust me when I say I'm fine and there's no need to worry." Hogan picked up his mug and drank his coffee.

"Excuse me," Carpenter interrupted looking back and forth between Hogan and Kinch. "Am I missing something here?" He focused his attention solely on his godfather.

LeBeau started to reply when Hogan, having drained his mug, got to his feet. "No you aren't." He glared at his three men warningly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going downstairs and find out how Carter's doing with those explosives." Without another word being spoken, Hogan approached the double bunk, slapped the hidden mechanism, and disappeared down the ladder. Olsen quickly jumped down from his bunk and stood guard at the barracks door.

Carpenter studied the three men. "I realize the Colonel says nothing is wrong, but I know him well enough to tell when he's holding something back. So which one of you is gonna tell me?"

Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk each exchanged looks before Kinch faced the Lieutenant. They had remained silent for the most part since Hogan's departure.

"It's not for us to tell you, mate," Newkirk replied in a low voice. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"You will have to ask the Colonel," added LeBeau.

"I see," Carpenter replied slowly getting to his feet. "Excuse me, but if I have to ask the Colonel, then that's what I'll do."

"Where are you going, Lieutenant?" asked Kinch as they watched Carpenter walk to the still open tunnel entrance. The man stepped over the lower bed frame and onto the top rung of the ladder.

"I'm gonna find the Colonel and ask him." Carpenter disappeared down the ladder as the others looked worriedly at each other.

"What d'ya think, mates?" asked Newkirk. "Think the Gov'nor will tell 'im?"

"I doubt it," said LeBeau with a subtle shake of his head. "The Colonel only recently came to terms with what happened that time. Even now it still bothers him when we must blow up something. I do not think he will tell the Lieutenant anything."

* * *

Hogan had delayed going to check on Carter as promised once he stepped off the last rung. Instead, he veered off to another tunnel which contained the ladder leading up to the emergency tunnel. The sadness became overwhelming again and the pressure of hiding it growing. He rested both arms on a rung of the ladder and rested his forehead against them.

"_What is wrong with me?" _he asked himself. _"Why do I feel this way? When will this sadness leave me alone?"_ Hogan raised his head and let out a deep breath. He was determined to get through his mission tomorrow night and keep his feelings buried so nobody would notice. And that would be difficult as he shared a barracks with now fifteen other men and five in particular who could read him like a book.

"Rob? I've been looking all over for you," a voice came from behind him.

Hogan quickly looked around with his command face in place.

"Well now you've found me," Hogan quipped. "What are you doing down here?"

Carpenter folded his arms across his chest. "There's something I need to talk with you about if you don't mind."

Hogan straightened up and draped an arm around the Lieutenant's shoulders, leading him away from the ladder. "So what did you want to talk about, Terry?"

"Several things really." Terry stuffed his hands inside his side pants pockets and allowed Hogan to lead him out of the room. "Rob, what's going on with you? I can't put my finger on anything specific, but something isn't right with you. I can see it in your eyes. You always had a twinkle in your eyes all the time, and it hasn't been there since I arrived. I think your men know what's wrong but they won't say out of loyalty to you."

"That's because there's nothing to tell. I'm simply tired. Between the missions, roll call, and putting up with the Krauts, one tends to lose sleep around here. That's all. It's hard to be bubbly when you're tired."

"I also noticed when you first found out about this mission from London, it had an effect on you. Why does this mission bother you so much? Please tell me. I want to help you."

Hogan sighed. "It only bothers me because something went wrong on an earlier mission, that's all. Nothing for you to worry about whatsoever. It's just that sabotage missions are always more risky because of the patrols. My men will tell you I worry about what could go wrong with each mission until we're back in camp. Then I unwind completely."

Carpenter paused for a few seconds. "One last question. What went wrong on an earlier mission?" Just for a split second, Terry saw Hogan's face tense; then, just as quickly, the tenseness dissipated and his command face reappeared.

"We had a problem with the explosives and almost got caught, that's all. Sometimes the explosives or the timers don't work like they should and we have to go back and fix 'em without getting caught. There's always a greater risk when we delay returning to camp."

"And that's all?"

"That's all. I swear." He patted Carpenter on the back. "Why don't you head back upstairs? I have things to do before tomorrow night and will be up later. We'll talk more at dinner."

Carpenter nodded accepting Hogan's explanations. With a small smile, he left Hogan and headed back to the ladder leading to the barracks. Hogan, arms wrapped around himself, leaned against the dirt wall of the entrance watching until the young man was out of sight. Alone, he walked to Carter's lab to check on things.

Hogan found Carter seated at his worktable working diligently at his assigned task. He could tell the young man was deeply engrossed in his work. So engrossed he never heard Hogan enter his lab. The younger Sergeant was quite enthusiastic about his explosives; sometimes too much, Hogan thought fondly. But nobody in camp was better with explosives than Carter. He was the absolute best at what he did.

Suddenly, Carter became aware of someone standing nearby when Hogan moved closer and he heard him. He looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, hi, Colonel."

"How's it going, Carter?"

"Okay. Everything will be ready on time. You can count on me, boy…I mean sir."

Hogan smiled sadly and touched Carter's shoulder. "I know I can. I'm not concerned." He paused for a long moment. "You're a good man, Carter," he added.

With a wide child-like grin on his face, Carter looked into the eyes of his commanding officer. "Gee, thanks, Colonel. That's really swell of you to say."

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Hogan took a deep breath. "Carter, you are one of the brightest young men with whom I've ever worked. Naïve? Most definitely. But you're not stupid and don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise. Understand?"

Carter looked at Hogan curiously. "Sure, Colonel. I won't. I promise. Thanks."

Hogan patted the Sergeant on his shoulder. "Good man." He turned around and walked away.

"Colonel?"

Hogan stopped at the doorway to the lab and looked back again. "Yeah?"

"Sir, you…what I mean to ask is…are you all right? You seem kinda, I don't know, kinda not yourself."

Hogan chuckled. "I'm fine. Becoming somewhat melancholy in my old age, I guess."

Carter smiled back. "You're not old, Colonel."

"Get back to work," Hogan replied with a grin.

"Yes, sir." Carter turned back to his explosives and didn't hear Hogan leave his laboratory.

* * *

Carpenter found his way back to the ladder leading to the barracks, and stood beside the ladder with one hand on a rung. He was lost in thought. Throughout his entire life, Hogan had never lied to him about anything, not once; so why would he start now? There was no doubt something had happened on that prior mission which neither Hogan, nor any of the men were willing to discuss.

Then again, it was entirely possible what Hogan had said was true and they had merely had trouble with their explosives and had to go back and fix them risking being caught by patrols. And the Colonel might not have wanted to worry Terry with how much risk was involved with what he did now. So, did he have the right to nose around in business that wasn't his? And exactly how would Hogan react when he found out? Carpenter knew the answer to exactly how he would feel. He would be livid and rightfully so.

Exhaling, Terry reached an immediate decision. For now, he would leave things alone and keep his eyes on the Colonel. And if there were any indications something was wrong, he would sit Hogan down and find out what the problem was, and wouldn't take no for an answer. Sighing, he climbed back up the ladder and stepped into the barracks where he found Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau still at the table waiting for him.

"Well? Did you find the Colonel?" asked Kinch.

"Yeah, I did. It took a while because of all the tunnels you have. But I finally found him."

"And?" LeBeau asked.

"Yeah." Carpenter sat down at the table. ""He told me on your earlier mission, something went wrong with the explosives and you had to go back and fix them putting yourself in danger from patrols."

The men exchanged looks. If the Colonel didn't want to tell his godson the truth then they weren't going to go behind his back and say anything different.

* * *

Leaving Carter's lab, Hogan didn't feel like at once returning to the barracks and be confronted with more questions from his men and his godson. He simply needed space and to be left alone. Hogan was certain he would recover more quickly if not for the watchful eyes of his men. He knew they cared about him and would do anything for him. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern for him, but the mothering and to be more exact, smothering, wasn't what he wanted much less needed right now.

Hogan continued walking aimlessly through the different tunnels occasionally running into other prisoners working on things. He hurriedly exchanged salutes with them as he continued his walk, but did not engage anybody in conversation. He had so far been in the tunnel where they keep their weapons and ammo checking out the weapons they would need tomorrow night. He then checked the changing room to make sure the Luftwaffe uniforms they would need were in good condition, and Newkirk and LeBeau didn't need to make any repairs. Again, everything was in good condition. In addition, he didn't worry Carter wouldn't have the explosives ready on time nor would work perfectly as they did the last time. He knew they would.

He finally stopped at one of the several empty back tunnels they used solely when they had guests or underground agents who were helping them who were staying for several days. Choosing one of the vacant tunnels, he sat down on the cold ground, his back against the wall. Drawing his legs up, he wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested the back of his head against the wall. He let out a deep breath.

He needed to be alone without being disturbed to think. Think about what was happening to him and his current emotional upheaval. Also about how he was going to straighten himself out. He realized it would be difficult hiding his feelings from the men, but he would try hard.

Hogan did not understand why the sadness refused to go away. It had been six months since the incident, and he had grieved as had the others with him that night when they witnessed what happened. But six months later, he didn't feel any better and was still sad. He would have thought by now he would have gotten over the incident. But he hadn't. And he had to wonder why. Bowing his head, Hogan let out a deep breath. Then, leaning his head back again, he began to recall everything that happened on that chilly night six months ago.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Staring up at the dirt ceiling, Hogan thought about that night six months ago, and found he remembered every detail as if it only happened a few minutes ago. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He wondered why this was happening to him now. Did it have anything to do with Terry's arrival at Stalag 13? As the events of that night replayed in his mind, Hogan wondered if there was anything he should have done differently which might have affected the outcome. He couldn't come up with a single thing. He started rubbing his forehead as a headache deepened. Perhaps if he went over the entire incident from the time they left camp it might help.

"Colonel?" a voice was suddenly heard close by causing Hogan to open his eyes and lift his head, interrupting his thoughts. He struggled to his feet and brushed off his jacket and pants.

"In here." Within a few moments, Hogan's second-in-command came into view "What's up, Kinch?"

Kinch, hands stuffed in his pockets, tried to read Hogan's face but it was unreadable. "Nothing urgent, Colonel. LeBeau just wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Thanks." Hogan checked his watch and arched both eyebrows. "I didn't realize how long I'd been down here." Looking up again while letting out a breath, he observed Kinch's eyes watching him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not really sure sir. It's just that we're concerned about you. Have been with every sabotage mission we've had since that time."

Hogan's expression didn't change as he draped an arm around Kinch's shoulders. He led him out of the empty tunnel and towards the ladder leading to the barracks. "I'm getting tired of being asked the same question repeatedly. I'm fine. The next person who asks me is gonna be court-martialed. I came down here to check on things for tomorrow night and to escape from watchful eyes. That's all."

"Yes, sir. I'll pass the word to the others so you won't be asked again." He smiled gently. "We only ask because we care about you."

Hogan's face softened a bit. "I appreciate it, Kinch, I do. But I had hoped by now we'd be able to return to normal, or at least some semblance of it anyway."

"Yes, sir."

Hogan's smile widened. "Good. Now let's go find out what LeBeau's preparing for dinner. I'm starving."

* * *

Hours after night roll call, Hogan, still awake, lay on his back on the upper bunk with both arms beneath his head, staring at the ceiling. The gentle snores of Lieutenant Carpenter from the bunk below indicated he was asleep for which Hogan was grateful. He really wasn't in the mood to talk, and wished sleep would come to him as easily. But despite the room being dark, Hogan had not only been unable to go to sleep, but to stay so once he did.

Not that he hadn't tried. But each time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the Schermerhorn Bridge exploding into pieces of burning wood flying in all directions. A different array of colors lit up the night sky from their vantage point where he and the men hid to witness the explosion. Normally, Hogan didn't like to delay returning to camp to see Carter's handiwork, but this one time he agreed and he'd been regretting it. He turned on his side facing the window, LeBeau's angry and hateful words echoing in his mind.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

Returning to the tunnels, LeBeau let loose an endless string of French obscenities, mostly directed at Colonel Hogan. He also directed a 'death glare' at Carter.

"_How could you!" _The Frenchman screamed at Hogan. _"How could you do it?! I never thought I would ever say this, but you are a Meurtrier! A murderer!" _

Hogan didn't utter a word during LeBeau's tirade. Instead, he let LeBeau get it out of his system hoping once he did, things would be better. He was wrong.

"Calm down, Louie." Newkirk put a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder, but LeBeau angrily knocked his friend's hand away leaving the Englander looking stunned.

"_Do not touch me! Any of you! You're all as bad as he is!" _He tilted his head in Hogan's direction.

"C'mon, LeBeau." Carter's eyes red and puffy. "That's not fair. There wasn't anything Colonel Hogan could do."

LeBeau glared at the young American. "And you! This is your fault as well! You and your stupid explosives. If it hadn't been for you…"

"All right, that's enough!" Kinch raised his voice which he normally never did. "LeBeau, I realize you're upset over what happened. We all are…"

"_Upset?! You think I'm upset?!" _LeBeau glared with intense anger at his friend. _"You do not know what you are talking about, mon ami. I am beyond upset!" _He then turned on Hogan again and although he saw the sadness and grief in the Colonel's face, it didn't register at all. _"You! You are to blame! I will never forgive you for this! Do you hear me? Jamais!"_(1)

For a minute Hogan thought LeBeau would strike him. He had never seen the Frenchman so enraged before even in his worst moments. Instead, LeBeau simply spun angrily on his heels, mumbling several French swear words, and stormed away toward the ladder leading to the barracks." Newkirk started after him but was stopped by Hogan's hand on his arm.

"Let him go," the Colonel said in a voice barely above a whisper. "He needs to get it out of his system."

"But the things he said to you, Gov'nor. Calling you a murderer and all. It isn't true, sir. We hope you realize that."

Hogan let out a deep breath and looked at the sad faces of his three remaining men. "I'm not so sure he's wrong," he replied.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

Letting out a deep breath now, Hogan shifted on his bunk trying to get comfortable. The sadness enveloped him whenever those hateful words spoken by LeBeau replayed themselves. He closed his eyes at the memory for a split second then opened them again. He turned on the bed again and now faced the wall but still couldn't relax.

Little did he realize his tossing and turning had awakened the young man on the bottom bunk.

Lieutenant Carpenter felt the tossing and turning on the bunk above, but pretended to still be asleep. Something kept his godfather awake tonight causing his restlessness. Perhaps their upcoming sabotage mission? Terry wanted to ask Hogan why he was tossing and turning at this hour, but after Kinch passed on Hogan's threat to court-martial the next person who asked him if he was all right, he decided he wouldn't. Not because he was afraid the Colonel would carry out his threat, but several of the men verified it was normal for the Colonel before a big mission.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

The tension between him and LeBeau lasted for nearly three weeks; the tension within the team itself lasted about the same length of time. Following his tirade, Hogan found LeBeau had not calmed down at all. In fact, things became worse between the two men. In addition, LeBeau limited his contact with Carter except when there was no choice. As for Hogan, he refused to speak with him at all unless necessary, and then his responses were 'military' in nature. The one time Hogan approached LeBeau after roll call, he was met with a glare of such intensity the likes of which he had never seen. It was then Hogan decided to leave LeBeau alone knowing how emotional the Frenchman was, and hoped things would change. The only ones on the team LeBeau laughed and talked with were Newkirk and Kinch.

Unfortunately, the rest of the barracks knew what had happened and of the tension between Hogan and LeBeau, and LeBeau and Carter. But for the most part, the others stayed out of it. Both Newkirk and Kinch talked repeatedly with the Frenchman about his blaming Carter and Hogan for what happened. But apparently this time LeBeau wouldn't listen to what either man had to say. In fact, LeBeau had been overheard saying he was going to ask for reassignment to a different barracks so he wouldn't have to look at the Colonel. This made Kinch and Newkirk fear the tension was breaking up their team and their friendship. Also, Carter was moping around the compound and looked like he had lost his last friend; even his best friend Newkirk wasn't able to cheer him. Hogan remained in his quarters shutting himself off from everybody in the barracks unless he had to interact with others.

Hogan felt bad for the young American Sergeant who did not understand exactly how to deal with LeBeau's indifference. Even Schultz noticed the change in Carter at roll call the following morning, and tried talking to him about it but to no avail. Carter would only say that LeBeau and he had a fight and the Frenchman was holding a grudge. When the fat guard noticed the tension between Hogan and LeBeau, the guard discovered nobody, including the two men, would talk about it. Schultz began to worry about the prisoners he considered 'his boys,' and feared something terrible must have happened for LeBeau to turn on Hogan and Carter. He was even more worried when LeBeau asked which barracks had room for another prisoner.

Eventually the entire camp became aware of the tension between Hogan, Carter, and LeBeau. Even Kommandant Klink noticed it, and demanded to know from Hogan what the problem was. As the prisoners' mail had been delivered the day before, Hogan told the Kommandant LeBeau had received bad news from home. But once the talk by LeBeau wanting to move to another barracks began, Hogan was determined not to inform Klink unless he absolutely had to tell him. He knew once he did, Klink would want details as to why, and he had no idea what he would tell him. But he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

But then a small miracle happened which gave Hogan hope. After about ten days, LeBeau, without warning, and after many talks with Kinch and Newkirk, apologized to Carter and began talking with him again as if nothing had happened between them. But where Hogan was concerned, LeBeau held fast to his anger. Still, Hogan was hopeful.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

The next morning when the men of barracks two awoke, it was obvious to the men Hogan hadn't slept well if at all. The shadows under his eyes confirmed their suspicions. But a glare from the Colonel and the matter was dropped and not brought up again.

"So, Terry, how was your first night in Stalag 13?" asked Hogan stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth. LeBeau had prepared a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, crispy bacon and potatoes. A pot of freshly made hot coffee sat on the stove. The men were all seated at the table enjoying breakfast.

"I kept tossing and turning half the night," Terry replied nibbling on a slice of buttered toast all the time eying Hogan's face intently.

Hogan's gut told him Carpenter knew about his restlessness the earlier night. "Too bad," he said. "Then again, you always had that problem the first night you slept in a new bed. Some things never change. As for myself, I always have problems sleeping the night before a mission."

"The explosives and timers are all ready, Colonel," Carter chipped in excitedly.

"Good. Kinch?"

"I'll have a truck waiting outside camp later this evening before dinner. The guard in charge of the motor pool wouldn't go any lower than fifteen cents a mile." He saw Hogan nod his approval.

"LeBeau? Newkirk? How's the uniforms?" Hogan didn't want the men to realize he had checked out the uniforms feeling they might be hurt believing Hogan didn't trust them.

"The uniforms are good to go, mon Colonel," LeBeau replied.

"Good job. We leave right after lights out tonight. Kinch, I hate leaving you behind, but I need you to hold down the fort until we get back. I also need you to keep Terry from losing it until I get back."

"No problem, Colonel," Kinch replied. He looked at Carpenter. "You can keep me company in the radio room."

Terry looked at Hogan. "Are you sure I can't come along and help? There must be something I can do."

Hogan shook his head. "My answer is still no." He saw Terry's dejected look and his face softened. "But I appreciate the offer."

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful as was dinner. But it was after night roll call that things became interesting. Terry joined Hogan and the others in the tunnels and watched as the men, except for Kinch, change out of their Allied uniforms and into Luftwaffe uniforms. He was amazed at what he was seeing. Within minutes, Hogan, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk, now dressed as Luftwaffe, walked out of the changing room. Carpenter didn't believe his eyes; the men could have been mistaken for Germans.

"Well, what do you think?" Hogan asked his godson with an amused grin.

"You guys look just like real Germans," Terry said. "As long as Newkirk and Carter don't say anything at least I couldn't tell the difference."

"Achtung!" Carter spoke with authority. "You will come to attention when addressing a German officer!" he added in his best German voice turning a glare on Carpenter.

Carpenter smiled. "Hey, that's pretty good. You even sound like a real Kraut."

"Thanks," Carter replied with a goofy grin on his face.

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Don't give him a swelled head," he joked. He checked his watch. "Let's get a move on soldiers of the Third Reich," he ordered.

"Jawohl, Mein Herr," replied Newkirk also sounding very German.

"I'm impressed," said Terry with a smirk. He began wondering if there was anything Hogan and his men couldn't do. His eyes soon met those of Hogan and an unspoken message passed between them.

Hogan glanced at LeBeau. "LeBeau, do you have the explosives and the timers?"

"Right here, Colonel," LeBeau patted the satchels hanging on each shoulder.

"Okay, let's go," Hogan nervously ordered. He led the way to the ladder leading to the emergency tunnel and climbed up, followed by Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau.

Watching them climb up the ladder and disappear, he exhaled before turning to Kinch who sat at the radio. He saw the look of concern and worry on his face.

"How do you do this night after night?" Carpenter asked.

"How do I do what?" Kinch asked.

"The waiting. It would drive me crazy having to stay behind while my friends went out on a dangerous assignment without me."

Kinch rubbed the back of his neck. "It isn't easy. I mean every time one of us goes out on a mission, there's always a chance something might go wrong or the worst might happen. We've accepted that. But Colonel Hogan knows what he's doing, and I have to believe they will return each time any of them goes out. The Colonel will move heaven and earth to get everybody back safely. Meanwhile, I have to make certain if there's trouble on their end and they need me, I can get help for them. Or if necessary, I can handle things on this end if I must."

Carpenter slowly sat down on the cot Kinch maintained near the radio when he needed to sleep while on radio duty. He stared at the Staff Sergeant with the headset for a few minutes.

"What's on your mind?" Kinch asked.

Carpenter chuckled. "Is it that obvious?" He saw Kinch smile. "I don't know how all of you manage to get away with what you're doing without the Germans catching on to you. I mean, don't you worry that one day this entire operation is gonna be exposed? And once that happens, it'll be the firing squad for each of you."

Kinch inhaled and exhaled as he chose his words carefully. "Every day. Terry, we are all prepared to die if we must to stop Scramble Brains Hitler from winning. I understand this might not be what you want to hear, but even the Colonel is prepared to die if his death means the rest of us will live to continue the fight. That's what kind of commander he is. Nothing is more important than his men, but you know that. Also, he believes in what we're doing as do we. But believe me when I tell you we are all quite aware each mission might be our last, and are willing to accept that."

"You guys are closer than any unit I've ever seen. You're more like a family." He paused. "I'm glad the Colonel has you guys looking out for him. It's obvious you guys care about him and him for all of you."

Kinch placed a comforting hand of the Lieutenant's shoulder. "Terry, there's not a man here who wouldn't lay down his life for the Colonel, and him for the men here."

* * *

(1) Jamais means Never.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Seeing the headlights get closer, two armed guards standing outside the front gate, held up their hands ordering the approaching vehicle to stop. Newkirk slowed the truck as he neared the fence which surrounded the ball-bearing plant. The guards approached the cab of the truck warily with rifles at the ready. Newkirk wore the uniform of a Luftwaffe Lieutenant, with Hogan posing as a Captain beside him.

"You know what to do, Newkirk," Hogan murmured, lips barely moving keeping his eyes on the approaching guards. He began to feel panic rising inside him.

"Right, sir," the Englander replied softly. He rolled down the window on the driver's side after one guard rapped on the window. The other guard stood on the other side, staring at Hogan through the passenger-side window.

"Guten Abend," Newkirk addressed the guard staring at him, unsmiling. He started wondering if the man's face would crack if he smiled or whether the scowl on his face was permanent. "I am Lieutenant Schmidt. This is Captain Hoganmueller." He reached inside his jacket removing several papers. "We are here to inspect the plant before it begins production as ordered by General Burkhalter." He handed the papers to the guard who stared at him first, then Hogan, before turning his attention to the papers in his hand.

Meanwhile, Hogan felt the panic continue rising in him like it did at the bridge. Something would go wrong. He could feel it. He could feel his heart drop into his stomach. Every fiber of his being called for him to stop Newkirk and order him and the others to run for their lives. To run before what happened at the bridge repeated itself.

_Calm down, Hogan,_ he thought to himself watching the guard continue examining the papers. Through the window closest to him, he found the other guard still staring at him impassively. The panic increased. "_What is wrong with me?" _he asked himself. _"Can this be happening to me now?"_

"Everything is in order," the guard told Newkirk handing back his papers. "You may go ahead." He gestured to the other guard to open the gate allowing the truck to pass.

"Piece of cake," Newkirk murmured with a smile glancing at the Colonel after they drove through the front gate.

Hogan, bowing his head, rubbed his forehead. The rising panic refused to abate.

"Gov'nor? You all right?" Newkirk asked worriedly.

Hogan took a deep breath to steady himself before facing the Englander. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get this over with," as the truck pulled to a stop outside the plant. To Newkirk, the Colonel appeared to be back to his old self again. In reality, Hogan was far from back to normal. The sadness had reared its head again.

"Right, sir," Newkirk answered looking at Hogan and dismissing the thought which momentarily ran through his head. Once he and Hogan exited the truck, Newkirk walked around to the back and ordered LeBeau and Carter, dressed as guards, to get out.

* * *

Terry rubbed the back of his head while Kinch looked at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"When Colonel Hogan arrived here, how long before he adjusted to being here?"

Kinch shrugged. "Once he recovered, it didn't take long for him to adjust to being in Stalag 13. Why? You wondering how long it will take you?" He smiled. "I wouldn't worry, Lieutenant. You probably won't be here long enough to adjust."

Carpenter nodded. "You said once he recovered. Exactly what did the Nazis do to him before being assigned here?"

Kinch took in and let out a deep breath. "I don't know what Colonel Hogan was like before being shot down over Germany. You would know better than I. But what I can tell you is when he first arrived in Stalag 13, he wasn't as he is now. He arrived a broken, ill, and beaten man. The Gestapo had gotten hold of him shortly after being shot down, and because he is a bomber crew commander, the interrogations and torture were endless and merciless, as were the beatings. Once assigned here, he spent months recovering from his physical injuries and the bad respiratory infection he had developed. Keep in mind if this had been any other camp, the Colonel probably wouldn't have survived. But our Kommandant was not like other prison Kommandants as he is a humane and caring man. He made sure Colonel Hogan got the care he needed to recover, and allowed us to take care of him the entire time."

Terry looked at Kinch with doubt on his face. He didn't think the man lied or exaggerated, but found what he said difficult to fathom "I find it hard to believe a German prison camp Kommandant being humane, even Klink. He is a German afterall."

"So did we at first," Kinch replied. "But he was. For a while we weren't sure Colonel Hogan would survive because several of his injuries were badly infected having been left untreated, and he had a bad respiratory infection. But Klink got the antibiotics and medicine necessary to treat him. We later heard rumors he had gotten antibiotics from the Black Market, but we could never verify that, not that it mattered. He eventually recovered fully, but believe me when I say it was touch and go for quite a while. But the physical injuries healed long before the mental ones did from what happened to him at casa de Gestapo. Colonel Hogan never discussed what happened to him while in their custody and we never asked. But you are aware he only talks about what's bothering him when and if he wants." Carpenter chuckled.

Carpenter bit his lower lip. "He doesn't seem to be suffering any ill effects."

"He has permanent scars on his body from the beatings and torture. But for the most part, he's fully recovered both physically and mentally."

"I'm glad he's okay. So you, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter were all here when the Colonel arrived?"

"Newkirk and LeBeau were already here when I came. I believe Newkirk came before LeBeau. Then the Colonel arrived. Carter came shortly after we got the operation started. We did mainly espionage and reconnaissance work. But Colonel Hogan decided to really put a dent in the Nazi war effort, we needed to branch out into sabotage, but we were hard pressed getting explosives and found we needed a demolitions expert. Shortly afterward, Carter came along and joined the team."

"The Colonel always had the gift of gab when I was a kid. From what I understand from Newkirk, he's no different here."

Kinch laughed heartily. "Colonel Hogan has Klink wrapped around his little finger so to speak. He can talk old Klink into anything, and have the Kommandant think it was his own idea. What was he like when you were a child?"

Carpenter smirked. "About the same. I remember one time in high school when dad was away on military business and the Colonel was home on leave. I got in trouble when I cut one of my classes to meet a girl who decided to cut her algebra class to go a movie, and wanted me to come with her. She was a real babe so I agreed and cut my third period biology class and go with her."

Kinch chuckled. "Not very smart."

"Tell me about it. What I didn't know was the Colonel had accompanied his youngest sister Sarah, and a girlfriend of his to the same movie, and we ran into each other in the lobby. If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right there. He was livid because he knew I was suppose to be in school. He always seemed to know my class schedule and what classes I took on which days although I have no idea how to this day."

Kinch shook his head picturing the famous Hogan expression which he had seen many times. "So what happened when the Colonel saw you?"

"At first nothing. He didn't say much of anything. He waited until we had dropped off the girl I had with me, and got Sarah and his girlfriend to their homes. He then insisted the two of us take a short walk and talk. The talk turned into a one-hour lecture with him doing all the talking and me the listening." Carpenter shook his head as he leaned forward with arms on his legs, hands between his knees. "He pointed out the importance of a good education which I should not take for granted, nor waste the opportunity I had been given. Did you know the Colonel had a perfect attendance record the entire time he attended classes in elementary, high school, and the Point? Never missed a day in his life."

Kinch arched an eyebrow. He believed it. "No I didn't. The Colonel is an extremely private person and doesn't discuss much of his personal life with us." He paused. "So what happened?"

"After the lecture, I returned to class the next day after promising never to skip another class ever again else he would tell my mother and father. I thought I was safe, but I was wrong. My biology teacher, a real drill Sergeant, somehow discovered I had skipped his class on purpose and was going to suspend me after reporting me to the principal. It would've broken my mother's heart. And my father, he would really let me have it as he valued the importance of a good education as did the Colonel. Anyway, I got scared when I found out and couldn't tell my mother, so I told the Colonel. He paid my teacher a visit."

"So what happened in the end?"

"The Colonel told my teacher to give me extra assignments instead by convincing him the extra work would hurt me more in the long run than the suspension would. He pointed out that I expected to be suspended and wouldn't really learn a thing. But by giving me extra work, which I would hate, he would prove to me he was unpredictable as well as tough as nails. My teacher bought it hook, line, and sinker. Needless to say he made things rough on me the rest of the semester."

Kinch laughed and shook his head, amused. "Something tells me you never skipped another class again."

"You better believe it. Colonel Hogan threatened if it happened again, he would not only tell my parents what happened, but would refuse to get involved on my behalf again. Believe me when I say, I never missed another school day unless I justifiably sick. And even then, the Colonel checked to make certain it was true." He saw Kinch check his watch. "How much longer will they be gone?"

"Let's see. It will take an hour to get there and back. If all goes well, should be another two hours." He could see the worry on Carpenter's face and understood it. Kinch had been through this many times and it still bothered him when his friends and commanding officer went out without him. But this was Carpenter's first time, and if it was anything like his own first time, he knew the younger man was ready to climb the walls. "Try not to worry. I learned a long time ago with what we do to hope for the best, but not expect the worst."

"You worry about them still, don't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do because I can't go with them most of the time to help. I won't deny sometimes there have been close calls, but Colonel Hogan always seems to take everything into account when planning a mission. I also keep telling myself no matter who goes out that person will return safely. I couldn't do this job if I thought any other way."

"I understand now why the Colonel relies on you as his second-in-command. You think exactly like he does. In fact, although I have been here only two days, you are so much like him."

Kinch would have blushed if he had been able. "Thanks for the compliment, but there is only one Colonel Hogan. I'm happy being the second-in-command. I don't need or want the responsibility of doing everything the Colonel does on a daily basis. It's bad enough when I need to fill in for him when he's incapacitated or is out of camp."

"Are there any other guards in camp who look the other way with what you guys do?"

"You mean besides Schultz?" Kinch asked. Carpenter nodded.

"Quite a few. Corporal Langenscheidt is like Schultz but we don't tell him much. But we screen every guard in camp or who comes into camp. Those we believe will be trouble we get rid of them. Of course there are several guards here now who are not tame, and we keep away from them. We even things out by having a few untamed guards along with the tame ones. But fortunately the tame ones outnumber the untamed ones."

"Amazing," Carpenter uttered. "You guys sound like you run this entire camp."

"People we bring here tell us the same thing, and believe Colonel Hogan has the run of this camp. But the Colonel always reminds us Klink ultimately has the final power even though Colonel Hogan manipulates him."

"I don't understand."

Kinch crossed his legs and his arms without breaking eye contact. "What I'm trying to say is if we ever pushed Klink _too_ far, he'd turn us all over to the Gestapo without warning and we'd all face a firing squad. The Colonel understands, and when we become too cocky, and believe nothing can touch us, he constantly reminds us to keep us in line. I must add though he himself has pushed Klink to the edge several times, but he knows exactly how far he can go."

"I somehow can't picture you guys becoming cocky."

"We have. Fortunately not often. I think the worse time we did was when the Gestapo took over Stalag 13. With the Kommandant on leave, they planned on transferring Klink and Schultz to the Russian front causing it to become a nightmare." Carpenter stiffened hearing the Gestapo's name. "I'll never forget him either. His name was Major Strauss."(1).

"What happened?"

Kinch quickly told Carpenter about the incident and how they had believed losing Klink and Schultz wouldn't be a problem because they would be able to manipulate the Gestapo. And Hogan had pointed out the Gestapo was not to be trusted, and it was 'shoot first and ask questions later' with them. He then proceeded to explain how they had gotten rid of Strauss and saved Klink and Schultz.

Carpenter's eyes widened. "Sounds like fun," he said sarcastically.

Kinch smirked. "This is why we fight to protect Klink and Schultz. We lose them, we're out of business."

"I'm beginning to understand more why the Colonel stays here instead of leaving after evacuating the camp. It's more than simply following orders. I believe he and the rest of you guys really believe in what you do which is to continue fighting back against the Nazis from right under their feet."

"We do what we can."

Carpenter merely shook his head. "What's the craziest stunt the Colonel's ever come up with since he's been here?" he asked.

"That's a tough one," Kinch said. "Two come quickly to mind." He quickly explained about the hot air balloon and rebuilding a plane in the tunnels to try to free a captured American General." He purposely omitted Barton's calling Hogan a traitor to his face in the beginning.(2)

Carpenter laughed. "The plane I can almost believe. But a hot air balloon? C'mon."

"It's true," Kinch assured him. "For a while we thought Colonel Hogan had lost his mind or as Newkirk so eloquently phrased it, 'gone around the bend.' LeBeau even offered the Colonel a week on the Riviera to relax." He and Carpenter both laughed. "But in the end, we built the hot air balloon and helped a British agent escape."

Carpenter laughed so hard his sides hurt. He had learned so much about Hogan since he became a prisoner of war and his admiration grew even more. He had always admired Hogan and didn't think he could admire him more, but he was wrong.

"Just remember," Kinch reminded him. "You can't repeat any of this to anybody. Not even your father. Everything we do is classified. I'm sure the Colonel has told you."

"He has. It's just so fascinating learning about what he's done since becoming a prisoner-of-war. And I won't repeat anything. I promise. It's just I never thought I would be prouder of him than I am learning all this. I mean, I was always proud of him and his accomplishments, but this makes me more proud."

Kinch's smile suddenly disappeared from his face and a serious look appeared as he looked further down the tunnels. Carpenter noticed the change of expression.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I heard voices, and it's not the Colonel or the guys." Kinch quickly got to his feet, removed a part of the wooden bench on which he sat, and removed two fully loaded pistols. He handed one to Terry who looked at Kinch not understanding. He saw Kinch remove the safety and did the same. "C'mon."

Kinch led the way out of the radio room. They soon came across two men from another barracks whose voices Kinch heard who had come into the tunnels to work on repairing several uniforms in the sewing room. Satisfied as to who the voices belonged to, Kinch led the way to the ladder leading to the emergency tunnel disguised as a tree stump. "Wait here," Kinch added. Terry watched as Kinch climbed up the ladder and checked something before climbing back down.

"What's wrong?" asked Carpenter.

"Whenever someone leaves using the emergency tunnel, they're suppose to make sure the tree stump entrance is securely closed and to trip the latch so it will be locked behind them. This is to keep a guard or someone else from opening it and entering the tunnel. To enter from the outside all one has to do is unlock the secret latch which automatically unlocks the inside latch allowing the hatch to be opened."

"That wasn't done?"

"No. The tree stump hatch was still open about a quarter of an inch and the latch unlocked. It's possible we may have unwanted visitors down here. I need you to help me search the tunnels." He saw Terry's concerned look. "Be ready to shoot if necessary."

* * *

(1)The episode involving Major Strauss is The Gestapo Takeover, Season 6.

(2)The episode involving the hot air balloon and Hogan needing a week on the Riviera is What Time Does The Balloon Go Up, Season 3.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Kinch and Carpenter searched the tunnels without running into anybody who shouldn't be there. Carpenter figured in this situation, it would be best to follow Kinch's lead.

"You sure somebody might be down here?" Terry asked keeping his voice low while they continued searching the tunnels keeping his eyes focused. It wouldn't do for him to be caught off guard or by surprise. After all, Kinch counted on him, and in a way, so did Hogan, to help protect his men and operation.

"Trust me. I've been doing this long enough to sense when we have company which may not be friendly." The search continued.

* * *

The image of the bridge blowing up permeated Hogan's mind causing his hands to shake as he continued wiring detonators to the explosives him and Newkirk hid in certain areas of the plant, while Carter and LeBeau planted the rest of them. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut attempting to block out the image. But he kept seeing the image, especially the eyes. Eyes full of horror and surprise; the blood forever on his hands. Finally, with all explosives and detonators planted, Hogan and his men left the plant. Newkirk reported to the guards they would recommend to General Burkhalter the plant is ready to begin operation. They quickly returned to their truck, got in, and drove off with Newkirk again behind the wheel and Hogan beside him. The Colonel let out a deep breath, but those haunted eyes continued to bore into him, taunting him.

* * *

Kinch and Terry had barely finished searching all the tunnels when several voices became louder as they neared the radio room. A smile appeared on Kinch's face which caused Carpenter to relax for the first time since the search of the tunnels started. Like Kinch, he recognized the voices coming from the changing room. Kinch put the safety back on his weapon and gestured for Terry to do the same. He then stuck the pistol in the pocket of his pea green jacket.

"Everything go all right, Colonel?" Kinch asked crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway of the changing room while the men inside changed out of their German uniforms and back into their Allied ones.

"Couldn't have gone better, Kinch," Hogan replied, his face unreadable. He was struggling to control his emotions right now and it took all his energy. He saw his godson looking at him and smiled. It was then he spied the weapon in the young man's hand. "What's with the pistol, Terry?" Hogan's eyes shifted to his radioman. "Kinch?"

Hogan's question caused the others to stop what they were doing and look at the two men. The Colonel stared at the two men standing in the doorway looking at each other as if trying to decide who was going to explain. Finally, Kinch sighed and faced Hogan.

"What's been going on here while we were gone?" Hogan asked warily. "Was there trouble?"

"We thought so at first," Kinch began. "I heard voices and didn't recognize them. So the Lieutenant and I armed ourselves and investigated. Turned out to be Sanderson and Olivetti from barracks eleven in the sewing room. But I thought there might still be unwelcome guests, so we continued searching."

"And?" Newkirk asked, green eyes narrowed.

"We didn't find anybody," Kinch continued. "But there was something."

"And what might that be?" Hogan asked zipping up his jacket. He was feeling so tired right now. He just wanted to lay down and sleep.

"Well, when we checked the emergency tunnel, the hatch was not completely closed, and the latch wasn't secured. I took care of both."

Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau all turned and stared at Carter. He had been the last one to leave the tunnel. The younger Sergeant hung his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess I forgot to close the hatch all the way and trip the latch," he admitted embarrassed.

Hogan exhaled deeply through his mouth. "Carter!"

Newkirk rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Bloody fool."

"I said I was sorry," Carter apologized looking up into three sets of annoyed eyes.

LeBeau punched him in the arm. "Idiot!" he muttered.

Carter rubbed the spot the Frenchman hit. "It won't happen again."

"Sure it won't," LeBeau muttered sarcastically as he and the others resumed changing clothes. Only Hogan had finished changing clothes. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"Okay, hold it," Hogan ordered. "No damage was done this time. Kinch caught it and secured the hatch. Fortunately, since he and Terry didn't find anybody it's safe to say nobody got in who shouldn't be here. We just have to be more careful next time." His last sentence was directed at Carter as his eyes focused on the younger man.

"Yes, sir," Carter added timidly.

Hogan walked out of the changing room and placed a hand on Carpenter's shoulder. The young man noticed the sadness in Hogan's eyes. The same sadness he had seen the first day they met in the Kommandant's office. He was beginning to suspect the Colonel had been hiding the sadness from his men. He began to wonder what else the Colonel was hiding. He made a mental note to himself to ask him about it when they were alone.

"Let's go, Lieutenant," Hogan took the weapon from the man's hand and handed it to Kinch. "I think it's time for all of us to get some rest." He glanced over his shoulder at Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter who were finishing getting dressed. "Goodnight gentlemen." The duo walked away to a chorus of 'goodnights' from the others.

* * *

Alone in Hogan's quarters, the Colonel began changing out of his uniform and into his pajamas while Carpenter sat on the lower bunk watching. He was more certain than before that Hogan had been hiding something from him, and suspected it might be because of what happened to him at the hands of the Gestapo. He believed Hogan didn't want him to discover how close he had come to death. It would explain, at least to Carpenter, the haunted look in the Colonel's eyes. He saw a couple of the permanent scars on Hogan's upper torso while watching the man change into his pajamas. He admitted while they looked healed, they still looked painful.

"So, did Kinch regale you with a few of our exploits?" Hogan asked buttoning his pajama top. He understood the radioman seldom had company when monitoring the radio when his friends were outside of camp.

"Do they still hurt?" Carpenter asked quietly.

"No." Hogan answered truthfully. He didn't look around knowing to what his godson was referring. "They've long since healed, but are constant reminders of why I am still fighting." He suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to find himself looking into Terry's green eyes.

"Kinch told me about when you arrived at Stalag 13 after the Gestapo had tortured and beaten you. You don't have to hide it from me anymore."

"I'm not hiding anything from you. I just don't like talking about it with anyone." Hogan's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm hiding something anyway?"

"I can see the sadness on your face and in your eyes, Rob. You've been trying to hide it since I arrived here and you don't have to anymore. I know what happened."

Hogan stared at his godson. He didn't want to talk about it at all. He was fine letting the young man believe the sadness was recalling the abuse at the hands of the Gestapo. He figured he would just have to try harder to hide the sadness from observant eyes. It wasn't Terry's job to look after him. The Colonel sighed and nodded.

"Comes and goes," he said quietly. "I don't even think about it most of the time. But once in a while…"

"I understand. Just keep in mind you can talk to me if you need to when the sadness comes over you again."

Hogan took in and let out a deep breath. "I promise I will. But right now we all need sleep. Goodnight." Hogan smiled faintly before climbing up on the upper bunk and stretching out his body. Terry turned off the small lamp on the desk and stretch out on the lower bunk after changing into his pajamas.

"Goodnight, Rob," Terry added.

Hogan closed his eyes hoping that sleep would overcome them both and soon. He really did not want to talk anymore.

"Did you really build a hot air balloon in the camp like Kinch told me?" asked a voice from the lower bunk.

Hogan smirked. "We did. But I'll tell you about it later. Now go to sleep." He heard a chuckle from beneath him. Eventually the breathing evened out and Hogan realized Terry had finally fallen asleep. Now if he only could do the same.

* * *

Newkirk climbed up on his upper bunk after changing into his nightshirt but found sleep did not come quickly despite the weariness permeating his body. He stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling. At the ball-bearing plant, he made sure to keep the Colonel close so he could keep an eye on him while they wired the explosives. Other than slight nervousness, he had seen nothing to show the Colonel was slipping. Hell, even he had been nervous at the time so that was nothing with which to concern himself. But he couldn't stop thinking something was amiss. _Blimey, am I now looking for something to be wrong with the Gov'nor? _he thought. _This is bloody marvelous. So far the Colonel's shown no further signs from blowin' up that bleedin' bridge. So why can't I let the ruddy thing go_?"

Newkirk turned on his side on the bunk and stared into the darkness of the common room. He had seen the light under the Colonel's door go out and the two men sharing those quarters had gone to sleep. He let out a deep breath as he stared at nothing. _Wilson swore nothing was wrong with the Gov'nor. Nobody else notices anything wrong. Why am I the only one? _He shifted his position on the bunk trying to get comfortable._ This is bloody ridiculous. I gotta stop looking for something to be wrong until there's something to see. Face it, Newkirk, sometimes you just worry too bloody much. The Colonel's fine._ Newkirk closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

* * *

Hogan lay awake on his bunk staring at the ceiling. As exhausted as he was, he could not sleep. And with Terry asleep on the bunk below, he didn't dare get up and pace the floor. "_What is wrong with me?"_ he asked himself. He rubbed his forehead as he felt the beginning of a headache. Closing his eyes he found he could not sleep; keeping his eyes open, he found himself exhausted. There was no middle ground. But considering the images which flashed through his mind whenever he closed his eyes, he believed he was better off staying awake no matter how exhausted he was. But the memories still came.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

It had been two weeks since it happened, and the tension between Hogan and LeBeau hadn't gotten any better; but nor had it gotten any worse. For that Hogan was grateful. The thought of having to not only transfer one of his core unit out of barracks two, but to replace him on the team pained him. Hogan had done everything possible to resolve the issue: he had tried giving LeBeau space to deal with his feelings, he had tried talking with him, he had tried letting the Frenchman yell at him without repercussions, and finally, he had tried apologizing. All to no avail. Hogan found himself now thinking of the steps he didn't want to take, but might have to in the end. When out of earshot of the others, Hogan subtly asked Kinch to check the camp personnel and find someone who could do what LeBeau did, and to let him know quickly. He also asked the radioman to keep this to himself for now.

An hour later Hogan was alone in his quarters, staring out the open window while nursing a cup of coffee. Hearing a knock on his door and thinking it was Kinch, he turned his head towards the door. "Enter," he said.

The door opened and in walked a concerned Newkirk and Carter. Hogan trusted Kinch would never divulge their conversation, but as this affected the core unit, he wasn't sure.

"What can I do for you fellas?" Hogan asked taking a drink of coffee.

Carter closed the door to the small room after he and Newkirk entered. The two men slowly sat down on Hogan's lower bunk never taking their eyes off their commanding officer.

"We'd like to talk with you if we could, Gov'nor."

Hogan closed the window before sitting down on the edge of his desk facing them. "Look, I know why you're both here and…"

"Beggin' the Colonel's pardon," Carter began slowly. "But we're here because of the tension between you and LeBeau."

Hogan sighed wearily. He was well aware the entire camp knew about the tension between the two, but only those in barracks two knew the cause behind it. "Go on," he added.

"Well, sir," started Newkirk. "We realize you've done everything to resolve the tension without success. It's no ruddy secret the entire camp knows. I guess…" Newkirk paused, scratched his head below his cover and looked at his best friend. "You tell 'im, Carter."

"Well, sir, it's like this," Carter began. "We've been talking with LeBeau as much as possible. Me, Newkirk and Kinch. We haven't had any luck with him either. Not one bit. I mean, you know how it is when you try talking with people and how stub…" Newkirk rolled his eyes and pushed the young Sergeant's hat down over his eyes.

"What he means, sir, is that Louie won't budge. He's still angry at you for what happened. But beside that, we don't think he wants to leave the team or the barracks. Not really, sir."

Hogan's eyebrows rose at this piece of news. "He definitely fooled me. I thought he made his wish quite clear."

"Maybe to you, Colonel," Carter added pushing his cap back on his head. "But when he thinks you aren't looking, you should see 'im. You can't imagine how sad he looks. I guess what we're trying to say is we hope you're not giving any serious thought to honoring his asking to go to another barracks."

Hogan paused for a few moments. "What makes you think I am?"

"We don't, sir. Not really," Newkirk added. "It's just…well, Louie is a part of our team, and it just wouldn't be the same without 'im is all, sir."

"Besides, we know you'd do everything in your power not to transfer LeBeau out of the barracks or drop him from the unit," added Carter.

Hogan took another drink of coffee. "If I thought LeBeau and I can work this out between us, I'd wait indefinitely. But I have to think of this unit. I can't have someone on the team who is causing tension within the ranks. It will cause problems when we're out on a mission."

Newkirk and Carter stared at each other at Hogan's last words and quickly got to their feet. They moved close to the officer.

"Gov'nor, you can't consider transferring Louie. He just needs more time."

"What Newkirk says. LeBeau will come around eventually. You'll see, boy…I mean Colonel."

Hogan smiled wanly. "We'll see. Right now London hasn't given us any assignments so I hope before they do this tension can be resolved."

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

Hogan rubbed his forehead and winced. The headache now in full force, and the lack of sleep not helping, he gently sat up in bed. He then swung his legs over the edge before quietly jumping down to the floor. The last thing he wanted to do was awaken Terry. Maneuvering his way in the dark, Hogan walked to his closet and grabbed the aspirin bottle on the upper shelf. He shook two aspirin into his open palm, and swallowed them dry before replacing the bottle.

"Rob?" a sleepy voice called out in the dark.

"Go back to sleep, Terry, it's only me."

"What are you doing up at this hour?" Carpenter asked glancing at his watch in the faint light from the moonlight shining between the closed shutters. "Can't sleep?"

Hogan sighed wearily. "Just needed a couple of aspirin. Have a slight headache. Nothing to worry about whatsoever."

"If you want to talk I…"

"_I said it's nothing but a headache!"_ Hogan raised his voice practically shouting. _"Now stop asking me questions and go back to sleep!"_ He froze at his godson's stunned face and at once felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I only have a headache and I get a bit crabby when my head hurts."

Before the young man responded, the door to the smaller room opened and in the doorway stood Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch, all looking worried. They had heard the shouting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Hogan rubbed the back of his neck seeing his team standing in the doorway staring at him with concerned faces. From their expressions he knew they had heard him shouting. He looked at them apologetically as Terry switched on the desk lamp illuminating the room.

"Is everything all right in here, Colonel?" asked Kinch. His eyes shifted momentarily to Carpenter and back to Hogan. Terry sat silently still trying to wrap his brain around what had happened.

"Yeah, everything's fine, Kinch. I'm sorry I woke you guys," Hogan said. "I only have a headache and you know how I get when I have one."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied worriedly. "You want one of us to get Wilson? He can give you something to help."

"That's okay. I've got aspirin in my closet and I took two. I'm sure I'll be fine come morning." He smiled at the men. "Why don't you guys go back to bed? I'll be fine after a little sleep and the aspirin. I promise."

"As long as nothing's wrong, sir. G'night, Gov'nor." Newkirk opened the door and the others followed him out of the room with LeBeau being the last closing the door behind him.

As the door closed, Hogan let out a deep breath bending his head backward and looking up at the ceiling with both hands on his narrow hips. Standing up, he turned to his godson who still stared at him with a worried expression. The smiling officer approached the young man and knelt down in front of him.

"I really am sorry I yelled at you," Hogan apologized. "I didn't mean to raise my voice. I worry about everything and sometimes don't get enough sleep, and develop a headache. The guys will tell you when I do I can sometimes be a real bastard."

But Terry was not placated. "Rob, what's going on with you? You're starting to scare me."

"I don't mean to worry you. Nothing's going on with me. I'm telling you the absolute truth."

"Rob, I…I want to believe you. I do. But you're different somehow and I can't put my finger on exactly what the problem is. If you're worrying about me, don't. Nothing's gonna happen to me here because nobody's gonna find out about our relationship. The mission is over and went well from what you told me, so you have no reason not to be able to get a good night's sleep. But if you're still having a hard time dealing with what the Gestapo did to you before you came here, you can talk to me and I promise whatever you tell me will stay between us. You always taught me not to bottle up my feelings because in the end it does no good. So why won't you talk to me?"

Hogan saw the pain in the young man's green eyes. "Because there's nothing to discuss. I'm just tired. Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine come morning."

Terry sighed, frustrated, knowing he wasn't going to get anything out of Hogan when he didn't want to talk. So he believed it would be better to let it go for now.

"If you say so." Terry smiled sadly. "But perhaps I should let you get some sleep. You had a busy day and night for an old guy."

Hogan smirked. "Insubordination will get you nowhere, Lieutenant," he joked getting to his feet. "Now, turn out the light and let's get some sleep." He climbed back up on the top bunk and stretched out on his side. Terry, meanwhile, switched off the lamp and was heard settling down on the lower bunk by the creaking of the bed frame.

"'Night, Rob."

"'Night." Soon, Carpenter's even breathing told Hogan the young man was asleep; but he remained awake and staring into space. He kept seeing the eyes; sightless eyes frozen forever in a sightless stare. Eyes which would forever haunt him. Exhausted, the memories returned.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

LeBeau let loose a string of French expletives as he sucked on his thumb for the umpteenth time after pricking it with a sewing needle. It was times like this he was glad he was now in the tunnels and not the barracks. In frustration, he slammed the garment down on the table top, leaned forward folding his arms on the table, and rested his chin on his arms. Tears began building. He was so conflicted right now he could not think.

Following breakfast earlier, Hogan had called him into his private quarters. The Corporal, realizing all eyes in the barracks were on him, slowly got up and followed the officer into the small room and waited until he closed the door. He stood at attention the entire time not watching Hogan walk around the smaller man and sit down on the edge of his desk. Even with the Colonel right in front of him, LeBeau refused to meet his eyes.

Hogan shook his head sadly, looking at the man he had called a friend since his arrival in Stalag 13 and could not believe they had reached this point where they weren't even speaking to each other.

"LeBeau, I know right now I am the last person you want to see or speak with, but this has gone on long enough. I was hoping by now after you had time to cool down and think, things would be different. I even hoped after I saw you talking with Kinch and Newkirk. But sad to say nothing's changed seeing how even now you can't look at me. So, considering the tension in the barracks and within the unit, I need to ask you again if you still want to move to a different barracks?"

"Oui. It is for the best," LeBeau spoke coldly not looking at his commanding officer. Inwardly though, the Frenchman wanted to cry out _'No!_' at Hogan's offer to move him to another barracks. He had realized Hogan was not responsible for what happened at the bridge, never had been. LeBeau had simply been as upset as the others and lashed out at the one man he respected more than any officer he had ever known. If he had been thinking clearly he would have seen that. The only things Hogan was guilty of was that he cared too much about the men under his command, and of making sure his men were safe and happy regardless of the personal cost to himself. But it was his own stubbornness and pride which wouldn't let him apologize.

"Then I'll speak with Klink as soon as I find out to which barracks I can move you." Hogan sighed wearily. "Of course Klink's going to want an explanation. Is there anything in particular you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him whatever you want. I do not care."

All Hogan could do was shake his head. "LeBeau, I hate to lose you and see you leave. You have been a good teammate and friend. And as soon as I can find somebody to replace you, I will release you from the unit. This way you won't need to work with me. Is that acceptable to you?"

LeBeau looked at Hogan with anger in his eyes and let out a deep breath. His eyes were also bright with unshed tears. "For what it's worth, Colonel, your apology is as you Americans say, too little too late. But in reality he wanted to scream _'apology accepted, mon Colonel!' _But again his pride and stubbornness got in the way.

"You are dismissed, Corporal," Hogan said sadly. "Again Louie, I am sorry."

In a huff, LeBeau turned and yanked open the door of Hogan's quarters and stormed out, slamming the door so hard behind him it nearly came off its hinges. The Frenchman pushed angrily past Carter, Newkirk and Kinch who confronted him to find out what happened, and hit the hidden mechanism on the double bunk. He waited for the lower bunk to rise.

"Louie, what happened between you and the Gov'nor?"

LeBeau looked around the barracks. "Ask the Colonel. I will be leaving the team as soon as he can find a suitable replacement. Also, I am leaving the barracks. At least this way I won't see Colonel Hogan daily." With the bunk rattling upward behind him, he turned and disappeared down the ladder without a further word to anyone.

Exchanging worried looks and feeling their 'family' was falling apart, the three men hurried to Hogan's quarters to speak with the officer. They found him standing in front of the open window in his quarters with arms folded across his chest, staring out into the compound.

"Colonel, is it true?" asked a wide-eyed Carter.

"You and Louie are both bloody crackers…sir." Hogan glared at Newkirk before turning back to the window,

"Colonel, we can't lose LeBeau," Kinch added. "We don't have anybody in camp who can do what he can."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hogan hissed with brown eyes flashing turning his head toward the men. "But I don't know what else to do. I have tried everything, and I do mean everything, to settle the issue between LeBeau and I but he won't even meet me half-way. He can't even look me in the face much less be in the same room with me. In addition, he's made it quite clear he wants to move to another barracks so he doesn't need to see me every day. And as much as I hate to lose him, I'm left with no choice but to grant his asking for reassignment to a different barracks. As far as the unit is concerned, we will make do somehow until we can get a suitable replacement."

"But Colonel…" Carter began.

Hogan held up a hand stopping him. "Believe me, Carter. This isn't a decision I make lightly, nor do I like it. But LeBeau's left me no choice. There's no other way to relieve the tension in our own barracks. So unless somebody can think of something I haven't, this is the best solution." Hogan turned back to the open window. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I want to be alone."

"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied sadly. He followed Kinch and Carter into the common room, closing the door behind him. Outside the closed door of the smaller room, Newkirk gestured with his head for the others to follow him as he walked to the other side of the room and stopped beside the double bunk beds he and Carter used.

"Mates, we need to do something and quick, or we're gonna lose our little mate permanently."

"I'm with you," Carter agreed. "I mean, I've never seen Colonel Hogan looking so defeated."

Kinch exhaled. "Yeah, well, what happened when we blew that bridge jointly with LeBeau's outburst and continued anger at him has perhaps broken something inside the Colonel. But you're right. The tension between them is so thick you can cut it with a knife. We need to do something and fast. But what can we do?"

Newkirk bit his lower lip. "Gents, what we have here is a complete failure to communicate."

Kinch's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

The Englander rested the fingers of one hand against Kinch's chest. "Mate, I know LeBeau longer than either of you two. His stubbornness and French pride is what's stopping him from making up with the Gov'nor. Louie can be right stubborn as a horse's arse when he wants. And the Gov'nor believes he's done everything within reason to settle this ruddy thing, and he has. So it's up to us to do something seeing as we have the most to lose."

Kinch's face suddenly brightened as he believed he knew what the Englander had in mind.

"So all we need to do is get them to talk to each other, even if they argue."

Carter remained confused. "How are we gonna do that for Pete's sake? They can't even be in the same room or look at each other without LeBeau getting mad and walking out."

Newkirk smirked. "You leave that to me. Andrew, find me a long piece of rope. Kinch, you come with me. I got an idea, mates. Let's just hope it works."

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

Morning came too soon for Hogan who, laying on his back, draped an arm across his forehead, sighing. His head, despite taking the aspirin the night before, was pounding mercilessly. He had not slept at all the night before and he could feel the effects. He was exhausted. Hearing the bed frame creaking, he knew his godson was getting up and he would have to do the same. Slowly, Hogan sat up on his bunk and swung his legs over the edge. He hesitated for a few moments to gather himself before jumping down to the floor. Terry was staring hard at him.

"Rob? Are you all right? You don't look so hot. In fact, you look worse than last night. Headache still bothering you?"

Hogan rubbed his forehead. Even though he didn't have a mirror at the moment, he imagined he looked like hell right now. "Yeah. A bit." He chuckled. "Guess I'm not my usual handsome self?"

"Not if you take into account those shadows under your eyes," Terry said worriedly. After breakfast you should get the camp medic to look at you. He might have something stronger than aspirin he could give you."

"I don't need Wilson," Hogan assured him. "I'm sure it'll go away on its own. I do have aspirin to take. Besides, Wilson has nothing stronger, and whatever else he might be able to give me should be held for the men who really need it in an emergency. A headache doesn't qualify as one."

"Rob, you said last night you would feel better in the morning after you took the aspirin. Well, it's morning and you aren't. If I sound like a mother hen, I'm sorry."

Hogan laughed despite the pain in his head the effort caused. "You should be as that's LeBeau's job anyway." His face became serious. "I don't want you to mention anything to the men no matter what. I don't need them worrying about me when they should be concentrating on other things."

"What other things?" Carpenter asked with raised eyebrows. "There aren't any assignments from London at the moment."

"That's just it, Terry. We could get an assignment at any moment, and I'd need the men focused and able to concentrate on the assignment. They won't be able to do that if they're completely focused on taking care of me. So let's keep this between us. Besides, I'm sure once I get you and the men who came with you back to London my headache will go away."

Carpenter sighed. "I don't like it but I'll stay quiet for now. Satisfied?"

Hogan smiled. "Yes. Now let's get ready for roll call before Schultz graces us with his imitation of a German rooster."

* * *

Roll call came and as expected, Klink babbled on about the complete destruction of the Germans new ball-bearing plant in Schweinfurt by saboteurs. As Klink's speech dragged on and on, a small smile appeared on the faces of Hogan and his men. Angered when he saw the smirk on the face of the Senior POW officer, the Kommandant stomped over to Hogan and stood in front of the American.

"You find this funny, Colonel Hogan?" Kink shook his fist at the American.

"No, sir. I thought that was thunder I heard early this morning. I mean, our meteorologist, Sergeant McMann, never mentioned anything about thunderstorms with possible downpours of ball-bearings."(1)

"Harrumph!" Klink hissed before turning and storming away. He didn't see the smirk on Hogan's face.

Back inside the barracks, LeBeau began preparing breakfast. Hogan, Carpenter, Kinch, Carter and Newkirk were all sitting at the table drinking freshly made hot coffee.

Kinch, Carter and Newkirk gave subtle looks at their commanding officer which did not go unnoticed by Hogan or Carpenter.

"If one of you three has anything to say now would be the time," Hogan remarked without looking at the trio.

Kinch glanced at Carter and Newkirk for a moment. "We were only wondering how you were feeling this morning, Colonel?"

"I feel fine," Hogan lied. "LeBeau, I'm starving. How long before breakfast is ready?"

"Not for an hour at least, mon Colonel. I can perhaps fix you a sandwich if you cannot wait." The Frenchman was inwardly glad the Colonel's appetite was back. "I mean, I understand seeing as you did not eat much at lunch or dinner. You must be ravenous."

"I am. And yes I will take a sandwich if you don't mind." A few minutes later, LeBeau placed a saucer with a sandwich in front of Hogan who devoured it as it he hadn't eaten in days. He noticed the men looking at him. "What? I was hungry."

"Nothing, Gov'nor, nothing. It's just good your appetite is back again. You haven't been eating much of late. What I mean is, sometimes you do and sometimes you don't."

"So now you're stalking me, Newkirk?"

"No, sir. It's just…"

"_I don't need a damn babysitter watching my every move!" _Hogan hissed. He wished he could take back the angry words before they left his mouth but it was too late. The hurt on Newkirk's face and the stunned expressions of the others told Hogan he had screwed up big time.

* * *

(1) Sergeant McMann is the meteorologist from What Time Does the Balloon Go Up?, Season 3.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It was so silent one could hear a pin drop as the men stopped whatever they were doing to stare at their commanding officer. But it was the hurt on Newkirk's face which tore at the officer's heart.

"I'm sorry, Newkirk." Hogan knew he must try and make this right somehow. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I really don't know what made me react like that."

"I do, sir," Newkirk replied softly as he and Hogan looked at each other. "We've been watching you every moment especially since that ruddy business with the bridge. It's no wonder you haven't lost it before now with us. We were worried about you, Colonel, is all. We're sorry if we made you feel like we're smotherin' you and makin' you uncomfortable."

Despite the pounding in his head, Hogan managed a small smile. "I appreciate the concern, but there's no need. I'm fine. Just tired. A commander's job is to look after his men, not for the men to look after their commander."

"Not when the men don't want any other commanding officer to lead them," Carter added shyly. Hogan smiled at his words before the Colonel noticed the Englander still seemed somewhat sad.

"You okay?"

Newkirk simply shrugged his shoulders, picked up his coffee cup, and swirled the dark liquid while staring into the cup. "Nothin' to apologize for, Gov'nor. No damage done, sir."

"Regardless," Hogan explained. "That's no excuse. I hope you can accept my apology. Are we okay?"

Newkirk lifted his head this time and looked at the American. The corners of his mouth curled upwards and a twinkle appeared in his green eyes. "Yes, sir, we're fine." A slow smile appeared on the Colonel's face as well. He had dodged another bullet.

"But you would tell us if anything was wrong, wouldn't you?" asked Kinch cautiously. Hogan looked at his radioman.

"Yes," Hogan lied. "But nothing's wrong, Kinch, so can we now drop this analysis of my well-being before breakfast?"

Terry listened to the exchange between Hogan and his men and realized his original assessment was correct. These men were a family. The Colonel's family. A family he trusted to take care of his godfather after he himself had returned to London and wasn't here to do the job himself.

* * *

Throughout the day, Hogan met with and interviewed the three men who arrived in camp with Lieutenant Carpenter, and found each had qualities that might prove useful to the operation. Sergeant Segal had experience in communications; Corporal Toller with explosives, having learned it from his father who did demolitions work for construction of roadwork. When he was older and before joining the military, he had even worked with his father. And Sergeant Dray spoke fluent German which was an advantage. Further discussion with the man revealed his father was a German-American whose elderly parents spoke broken English. He learned German from them. Hogan made the decision to show the trio the operation and swore them to secrecy as he had done with Carpenter. He also explained the no escape policy and demanded knowing if any of the men had a problem with the policy to speak up now. None of them did, and needless to say they were overwhelmed by what they were shown beneath the camp.

Toller was assigned to work with Carter to ease his job when explosives were needed and to relieve the young Sergeant in case he was incapacitated or unavailable. Carter was also thrilled to have somebody who loved explosives as much as he did and set about regaling the man with his exploits.

Segal was assigned to Kinch. Baker usually relieved Kinch, but by having another man, Segal would be able to relieve or replace Baker should he be needed elsewhere. The fact that Dray spoke fluent German was simply an added bonus. Hogan had been thinking of expanding his core unit, and he needed to find out what these men were able to do. If they worked out, he would make a decision at that time. But, he didn't realize how soon that test would come.

It was right after lunch Hogan went into his office, wanting to go over several maps. He asked not to be disturbed unless important, while Carpenter and other prisoners were outside enjoying the warm sunshine. Only Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk were still inside seated at the table enjoying a game of gin rummy. Kinch and Segal were both downstairs in the radio room.

"Gin," Newkirk smirked laying down his cards on the table. Carter and LeBeau both grumbled disgustedly as the Englander chuckled gathering up the discarded cards and began reshuffling. The sound of the lower bunk bed in the corner rattling upward caught their attention. Olsen at once jumped down off his bunk and kept look out at the door for visitors. Segal's head popped up from below as he climbed up the ladder and stepped over the bed frame into the room.

"Where's the Colonel?" he asked looking around the barracks.

"In his office, mate. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Kinch took a message from London for the Colonel," Segal replied walking briskly toward the smaller room. The game forgotten, the others got to their feet and followed him.

Hogan had his eyes closed while seated at the desk with the maps in front of him. He could not concentrate on them and blamed his headache as the reason. Taking two more aspirin upon returning to his quarters, he tried extremely hard to bury the sadness deep so he could do his job. But he was failing miserably. In fact, all he really wanted to do right now was brush everything off his desk, punch a hole in the wall, and scream out in anger. But to do that would alarm his men and Terry, and he didn't want to do that. So he sat quietly and rubbed his forehead. That's when he heard the knock on his door and sighed wearily.

"Come in," he ordered opening his eyes and waiting. The door opened and four men entered. Segal handed the officer the folded slip of paper.

"Message from London, sir," Segal reported. Hogan took and unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the words.

"What's it say, mon Colonel?"

"We gonna blow something up, Colonel?" Carter was getting excited.

Hogan bit the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming at the questions. "A toy factor on the outskirts of Hammelburg has been converted into making the new Panzerfaust 30 anti-tank weapon. They want the exact location because the factory is camouflaged and the bombers can't find it to strike."(1)

"Blimey, a ruddy toy factory?"

"Colonel, we're not gonna blow up Schultz's toy factory are we?" Carter asked sadly. "I mean, it would be kinda sad to destroy Schultz's company."

"Don't worry, Carter," Hogan answered with a quick glance at the young man. "Schultz's factory is in Heidelberg where he lives."(2) He saw the young Sergeant smile at the good news.

Finished reading, Hogan looked at the men in front of him. "This is a reconnaissance job. Newkirk, find Lieutenant Carpenter and come back here. The rest of you have a seat except for you Segal. I want you to return to the radio room and inform Kinch to report to my quarters." He waited until Segal and Newkirk left on their assignments. Carter and LeBeau sat down on the lower bunk to wait.

Hogan rubbed the back of his neck and paced back and forth while he waited for the others. He noticed LeBeau watching him. Catching Hogan looking at him, the Frenchman diverted his eyes and looked down at the floor for which Hogan was grateful. He believed he would scream if the Frenchman had asked a question at that moment. The door opened and in walked Kinch followed by Newkirk and Carpenter. Carpenter closed the door quietly.

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" Terry asked, puzzled. He had no idea why Hogan would want him sitting in on a strategy meeting for an assignment from London.

Stopping his pacing, Hogan wrapped his arms around himself and looked at the new arrivals. "Kinch, Newkirk, Terry, find a seat so we can get started. This won't take long." He sat on the edge of his desk, waiting.

Newkirk sat on the edge of Hogan's footlocker while Terry sat beside LeBeau and Carter. Kinch remained standing and leaned against one of the posts holding up the upper bunk. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and crossed his legs at the ankles.

"We have a recon job from London," Hogan began. "There is a toy factory in the outskirts of Hammelburg which has been converted into a factory producing the Panzerfaust 30 anti-tank weapon. And before anybody else asks, we're not blowing up Schultz's toy factory." He had sensed the others would ask the same question as Carter except for Terry who hadn't been here long enough to know about the Schotzie Toy Company. "The Panzerfaust 30 is an improved version of the original Panzerfaust, and are being produced in large numbers. Now I don't need to tell you guys the damage it could do to our Army level of armor. London says the plant is camouflaged and needs the exact location so they can send bombers to demolish it."

"How soon do they need the coordinates?" asked Kinch.

"Well, considering the message is marked Code-Red, I'd say yesterday. I want Newkirk, Carter, Kinch and Terry to go."

Carpenter's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Me, Colonel?"

"Lieutenant Carpenter, Gov'nor?"

"Yes. I realize he's new and this would be his first assignment, but he has to learn sometime. Being a recon mission, it should be relatively safe. Normally I would send three people on this mission, but because this will be Lieutenant Carpenter's first time, I want you, Kinch, to make sure he sticks close to you. I'm trusting you with my godson."

"I won't let you down, Colonel."

Hogan smiled. "I know you won't." He looked at Carpenter. "Lieutenant, we have plenty of experience with reconnaissance missions."

"When do we go, Colonel?" asked Carter.

"Tonight after roll call. That's all."

Understanding the meeting was over; everybody left the room except Carpenter who hung back. Once he and Hogan were alone, Terry approached his godfather nervously.

"You sure you want me to go with your men tonight, Rob?" he asked. "I mean, I have no idea what to do or what I should do. I could be more of a hindrance then a help."

Hogan was suddenly totally exhausted and felt as if he would collapse at any minute, but knew he had to hold it together. He stuck his hands in his back pants pockets. "You know how to check things out. You know how to observe things. You know how recon works. Only difference is you're doing it from a hiding place where you won't be seen by the Krauts." He placed a hand on Terry's shoulder. "You'll do fine. Just stay close to Kinch and listen to him. He will be in charge. Once all of you get back here, we'll code the information and radio it to London so they can send the bombers."

Terry let out a deep breath. "I just don't want to screw up this opportunity."

"And you won't. You'll do fine. But I have work to do so if you'll excuse me."

Terry chuckled. "You trying to get rid of me, Rob?"

"No. You can stay if you find watching me going over several maps fascinating."

Terry waved his hand and turned toward the door. "No thanks. If I'm gonna go out with your men tonight, I need to find out what's expected of me by Kinch so I know what he wants me to do. Have fun with your maps." He exited the small room leaving Hogan alone.

Hogan climbed up on the upper bunk and sat on the edge, burying his face in his hands. His head felt as if it were about to explode. He had no wish to look at maps, or do anything he normally would do when there was an upcoming mission. His body was so exhausted and fatigued he couldn't get up again even if he tried. Falling on his back on the bed, he closed his eyes hoping to get some sleep. But again, sleep eluded him.

* * *

As Kinch, LeBeau and Carter explained to Carpenter what was expected of him during a recon mission, Newkirk sat and listened while drinking his coffee. His eyes were on the little Frenchman while thoughts of his commanding officer came to mind. Both of them had come a long way since that night six months ago. The Englander was glad his plan had worked. A small smile appeared as the memory returned to him as clear as if it had happened recently.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

Newkirk slapped the hidden mechanism to activate the hidden tunnel entrance. Once the lower bunk rattled upward and the ladder dropped, Newkirk and the others disappeared down below, and Carter headed in a different direction to complete his assigned task. Meanwhile, Kinch and Newkirk searched every tunnel before finding the diminutive Frenchman in the sewing room still in the same position he had been earlier.

"Hey, Louie, you okay?" asked Newkirk. He realized he and Kinch had to be convincing else their unit could be irrevocably broken.

LeBeau turned his head towards his friends. "I'll live as soon as I leave this barracks. Perhaps then I can get over my anger at Colonel Hogan. Besides, he doesn't want me sharing his barracks despite what he says. So it is just as well."

"Doesn't want you…c'mon, LeBeau, who are you fooling?" asked Kinch. "We all understand you don't really want to leave us or the team. And the Colonel told us he doesn't want to lose you. So why are you being so difficult?"

"Don't you think you should go and apologize to the Gov'nor and resolve everything?"

LeBeau raised his head this time, eyes darkening. "Why am I…because I cannot stand to see Colonel Hogan knowing he doesn't believe he did anything wrong that night. And exactly why should I apologize for how I feel? I am not the one who stopped me from doing something!"

Newkirk exhaled. "Why don't you stop being a bleedin' horse's arse, Louie. You understand exactly why the Colonel stopped you. I can see it in your eyes. If he hadn't, you would have died. Your death wouldn't have changed one blasted thing in the end."

LeBeau's face softened. He smiled faintly. "You are right of course, Pierre. I realize this, and the Colonel was right by stopping me. But it pains me nonetheless."

"Then why don't you apologize to the Gov'nor?"

LeBeau looked aghast. "After the things I said to the Colonel? I was so disrespectful and angry with him he could never forget that. Besides, I cannot face him."

Kinch and Newkirk looked at each other and then LeBeau.

"I don't get it," Kinch was confused. "If you understand why Colonel Hogan did what he did, why do you keep arguing with him?"

The Frenchman sighed wearily. "I keep arguing with him hoping he will send me away so I don't have to see him each day. Neither of you have any idea of the guilt I feel over what I said to him. I called him a murderer to his face. That alone pains me."

"It pains all of us," Kinch added solemnly. "But it looks like you won't have to leave the team or the barracks after all." Kinch figured it was time to reel in their fish.

LeBeau's mouth fell open in surprise. "What do you mean, mon ami?"

Newkirk looked at Kinch and shrugged his shoulders. "Colonel Hogan told us he's decided the only thing he can do is resign his command here, and have London send someone to replace him. That way the team can remain intact."

The Frenchman's eyes bulged. "Non! He cannot do that! Why would he do such a thing?"

"Me and Kinch asked him the same thing," Newkirk answered grimly. "He figured this way the tension in the barracks will go away, and you won't have to leave and move to another barracks."

"He can't do that!" echoed LeBeau. He was starting to realize how deeply he had hurt the officer, and it pained him to think he was the reason Colonel Hogan would leave for good, and exactly how far Hogan would go to keep his unit together. "We need him!"

"Correction," added Kinch. "Newkirk, Carter and me need the Colonel. You're the one who doesn't."

"You must talk him out of leaving!"

"We tried, believe me, " added Kinch. "He refuses to change his mind. Tomorrow morning he plans to contact General Butler and inform him he is resigning his command. He's promised us he'll stay at least until London sends another officer."

"He cannot leave. What if I tried talking with him?"

"_You _want to try talking with 'im?" asked Newkirk. "LeBeau, you can't even be in the same room with the Gov'nor before you start yellin' at 'im."

LeBeau massaged his forehead. "It is because of me he is leaving. I do not want that on my conscience. I do not want to be responsible for us losing the best commanding officer we have ever had." He pushed himself to his feet. "I will go and talk with him and make him understand he cannot leave."

Newkirk and Kinch glanced at each other, their eyes saying what wasn't able to be put into words right now.

"I will talk with the Colonel now. If I am going to leave, there is no reason for him to leave as well." The Frenchman hurried away from the table and marched in the direction of the ladder leading up to the barracks with Newkirk and Kinch following hiding the grins on their faces.

The three men stepped into the barracks seeing no sign of Hogan anywhere. LeBeau strode towards the smaller room. Newkirk and Kinch spotted Carter seated on his lower bunk. The young Sergeant nodded subtly and discreetly patted the spot beside him under his blanket indicating he had what Newkirk asked him to get. They stood in front of Carter watching LeBeau open the door to Hogan's room without knocking and slam the door shut behind him.

"Let's go," explained Newkirk. "We have to move fast. Carter, give me the bloody rope."

Handing Newkirk the rope, the Englander and Kinch, followed by Carter, hurried to Hogan's quarters. Unfurling the rope, Newkirk handed one end to Kinch. "Here, mate. Tie this end around the post of that double bunk there while I fasten this end around the doorknob here."

Carter watched the two men performing their tasks, puzzled. "I don't get it. How is this rope gonna get LeBeau and Colonel Hogan talking?"

"Easy," Newkirk replied testing the rope to find it taut with no give whatsoever. "They're both in the same room. The door to the Gov'nor's quarters opens inward. Neither one will be able to open the door as long as we have this rope tied the way it is. They'll have to talk."

"I sure hope LeBeau can talk Colonel Hogan outta leaving," said Carter. "I'd sure hate to see us get a new commanding officer."

"Andrew, Colonel Hogan isn't going anywhere. Never was. Kinch and me just told Louie that to get him to talk with the Gov'nor in his quarters."

Carter's face brightened considerably hearing that. He had been worried about Colonel Hogan leaving as he didn't want him to go. He felt he would never get another commanding officer as good as Hogan. In fact, he didn't want to serve under another commanding officer.

"Now I understand," he answered, nodding his head.

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "No you don't. But it doesn't matter anyway. Main thing is that Louie and Colonel Hogan have no choice but to talk 'cause they're stayin' in that room until they kiss and make up so to speak. Carter, go outside and when the Gov'nor closes his window, stick this piece of wood in it to jam it so it won't open."

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

Hogan's eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling above. He massaged his forehead. He began hoping once he stopped having these dreams, perhaps his headaches would go away. All he could do is pray his assessment was correct. If it wasn't, Hogan had no idea what he was going to do. Right now he had no idea what, if anything, was happening to him.

_Am I going crazy, maybe?_ he thought to himself. _Is Newkirk finally right when he says I am going crackers? _It was a thought to which he had yet to find an answer.

* * *

(1) The Panzerfaust 30 is a recoilless German anti-tank weapon. It can fire a high explosive anti-tank warhead operated by a single soldier. It could fire a large caliber projectile which could defeat any level of armor available to Allied crews and could be produced quickly. Was produced in large numbers in 1943 through the last months of WW2.

(2)The mention of Schultz's toy factory is from War Takes a Holiday, Season 3. However, the exact location of the factory was never mentioned. But since Schultz said in the episode Killer Klink, Season 2, he was glad to return home to Heidelberg, I took the liberty his toy factory would be in his hometown.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The rest of the day passed quickly for the men of barracks two. Carpenter had spent a good part of the day down in the tunnels talking with Kinch and Newkirk about what was expected of him tonight. The two men were impressed with the young man's eagerness to do a good job and decrease his mistakes while outside the wire, so they readily explained what to expect.

Following roll call that evening, the Lieutenant followed Newkirk, Kinch and Carter below and into the changing room. Terry found himself becoming excited; but an excitement tempered with nervousness. But the Lieutenant was running right now on adrenaline. He knew Hogan was giving him a chance to show what he could do. Terry secretly hoped if he did a good job, perhaps his godfather would let him stay and make him a permanent member of his unit. He smiled at the thought of working beside the man he grew up admiring the most other than his own father.

The men changed into what they called their 'blacks'. Terry didn't have a set, so the men got permission from Hogan to let Carpenter borrow a spare pair of his blacks as the two men were a similar height and weight. Seated on the bench in front of a locker facing Carpenter, Newkirk opened a jar and scooped a generous amount of grease on his fingers. He reached for the man's face, but Carpenter pulled back staring at the glob of grease.

"What's that?" he asked eyes shifting back and forth.

"We wouldn't want you glowing in the dark now would we, mate?" Newkirk teased putting Carpenter at ease. The young man chuckled and allowed the Englander to start smearing the grease on his face. Both men were so busy neither acknowledged Colonel Hogan enter the room quietly, watching from the doorway. Carter was the first to spot him and grinned.

"We'll be ready in a few minutes boy, I mean sir." The others looked his way and smiled.

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself leaning against the doorway; eyes watching his godson and Newkirk.

"How's he look, Gov'nor?" Newkirk replied now beginning to apply grease to his own face having finished with Carpenter's. He smiled at Hogan.

Hogan chuckled. "Right now I don't think his own mother or father would recognize 'im."

"Very funny," Terry replied stammered.

"Nervous?" Hogan asked with a lop-sided grin.

Terry looked at Hogan and smirked. "I think I'm too scared right now to be nervous. Does that make any sense?"

Hogan smirked. "It does. It's perfectly normal for you to be nervous and scared. This is new to you. Please keep in mind I don't want anybody playing hero tonight. The job is to get the coordinates and get back here. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Before you leave I'll check the area for patrols." Without waiting for a reply, Hogan spun around and left the room. Terry wondered at Hogan's abrupt disappearance.

"I wonder how he's gonna be able to sleep while we're outside the camp," Carpenter commented.

"Sleep?" Kinch asked. "The Colonel won't be sleeping until we're back in camp safely."

"Yeah," Carter added checking his sidearm. "He paces continuously whenever one of us is outside the wire. And if we're late getting back, boy, does he get angry. He's a real worrywart."

Memories of a much younger Robert Hogan pacing the floor came to Terry during the days and nights he was growing up and Hogan was keeping an eye on him for his dad.

"Some things are still the same," he chuckled. He accepted the pistol Carter handed him and stuck it in his belt.

Ready, the men soon joined Hogan who was checking out the area using the makeshift periscope which, above ground, was covered with leaves and foliage. Hogan walked slowly around in a circle making sure he covered all areas. "No patrols or dogs anywhere. Down periscope." He lowered the handles of the periscope followed by the periscope itself. He looked one last time at the men in front of him. "Get going, good luck, and be careful." His eyes followed the men with Terry bringing up the rear, climb up the ladder leading to the tree stump.

Now came the waiting which was something Hogan did not do well. The moment he heard the latch tripped on the hatch of the tree stump, a wave of sadness overwhelmed him again. A wave so powerful, Hogan turned and bolted from the tunnel and up the ladder into the barracks. Right now he needed to be alone. He ignored the men who spoke to him and entered his quarters closing the door behind him. Sensing his emotions were about to get the better of him, he knew he was better off in his quarters. He walked over to and opened the window in his room, and stood gazing out at the compound. Once it was lights out, regulations were that all barracks windows should be closed, so Hogan knew he was in violation by having them open. But with Schultz on duty tonight, he hoped he might get away with it at least a few minutes. He needed to be able to breathe without the walls closing in on him, smothering him.

"Colonel?" a voice called out quietly from behind him. Hogan turned his head to see LeBeau standing inside the doorway holding a cup of hot coffee. The Frenchman was eying the officer. "I made a fresh pot of coffee and thought you might want a cup."

"Thanks," Hogan replied turning back to the open window. "Sit the cup on my desk. I'll get it later."

LeBeau did as ordered before starting back towards the door. Holding the door open slightly, he looked over his shoulder at the American. "They will all be all right, mon Colonel. Your godson will not disappoint you. He will do what you tell him so he doesn't cause you worry. Try and relax. He will make you proud."

Smirking, Hogan closed the windows and the shutters before turning. "I know he will, Louie." Hogan sat down at his desk pulling the coffee cup in front of him. LeBeau closed the door but remained standing in front of it. "Still, I can't help but feel I made a mistake by letting Terry go on this mission. Should anything happen to him…"

"Nothing will happen. Colonel, do you think Kinch, Andre and Pierre would let something happen to the Lieutenant? You always trusted your gut in the past, so you must trust it now. Besides, your godson is a lot like you."

Hogan frowned. "That's not necessarily a good thing."

LeBeau shrugged. "I did not mean that in a negative way. What I mean is he knows how to use his head, and he has good instincts in situations. Also, he could do worse than having you as a role model. You are the man we all strive to be like whether you realize it or not."

Embarrassed, Hogan bowed his head and stared into his coffee cup. "I appreciate the compliment." He took a drink of coffee savoring the hot brew. "I guess I'm somewhat over-protective when it comes to Lieutenant Carpenter. If anybody should discover the link between he and I…and by anybody I mean the Nazis."

"But how can they?" queried the Frenchman. "Nobody knows except the five of us and Wilson, and none of us would say anything. Mon Colonel, do not worry. Lieutenant Carpenter will be fine. Kinch, Carter and Newkirk will keep him safe. I promise you."

"I hope you're right," Hogan sighed. "I promised his father I would protect him as long as he was a prisoner here in Stalag 13."

"And you will," LeBeau assured his commanding officer. He slowly approached the man and placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Colonel, you didn't touch your dinner. I can heat something up if you're hungry."

Hogan allowed the corners of his mouth to curl upward as he looked up into the Frenchman's eyes. The thought of food right now turned his stomach. "I'm not hungry. Thanks anyway. Give the leftovers to Schultz. He'll make sure they don't go to waste."

"Non. I will save it in case you change your mind after they return. You might be hungry then."

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself."

LeBeau patted the American's shoulder. "Try and get some rest, Colonel. We will let you know when the others return."

"Why bother?" Hogan asked staring at the smaller man. "I'd just end up pacing anyway." He smiled faintly as seeing LeBeau looking at him triggered sudden memories of several months ago.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

Hogan turned away hearing the door to his room slam shut. He was surprised to see the small Frenchman standing just inside the room, arms on hips, eyes blazing. The officer figured the two had said everything they had to say earlier.

"Answer me one question," LeBeau hissed. "Is it true?"

Sensing there was going to be another shouting match, Hogan closed and locked the window before facing the smaller man. "Is what true?"

"What Kinch and Newkirk told me."

"Yes," Hogan replied wearily believing LeBeau had heard about which barracks Hogan was sending him. After all, he had mentioned it to Newkirk. "It's what you wanted isn't it?"

"What _I_ want?" LeBeau echoed incredulously. "How can you ask that? How can you consider leaving after I agreed to leave?"

Hogan's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows knitted together. "Who told you I was leaving?"

"Don't deny it. Kinch and Newkirk both told me you intend to tell General Butler you are resigning your command effective at once. How can you do that?"

It suddenly occurred to the American what Kinch and Newkirk were doing. He chuckled and shook his head at their ingenuity.

"What is so funny?"

"LeBeau, I'm not going anywhere. We have been played."

LeBeau looked puzzled. "Played? What means played?"

Hogan walked over to his door grabbing the doorknob. He would demand Carter, Newkirk, and Kinch to come into his room and explain themselves. He turned the knob repeatedly surprised at finding the door would not open. "It appears we have been locked in here."

"Impossible!" cried LeBeau moving past Hogan and gripping the doorknob himself. He began twisting it with no luck either. He banged on the door loudly. "Kinch! Andre! Pierre! Open this door! Let us out of here!" He shouts were met with silence.

Hogan calmly pulled out the chair from his desk, turned it around, and straddled it with arms resting on its back. He watched the Frenchman throw up his arms in exasperation. "Seems they're determined to keep us locked in here as long as necessary."

"Why would they do this?"

"I told you," Hogan reiterated. "We're being played. I have no plans of resigning my command here. I believe Kinch and Newkirk told you I did hoping you would come to my quarters and talk me into changing my mind."

LeBeau looked around with his eyes falling on the window. "Of course. The window." He hurried to the window and tried opening it only to find it wouldn't open. The Frenchman slammed a fist against the frame and muttered several obscenities. "What is so funny?" he asked Hogan who had a smirk on his face.

"I have a feeling one of them jammed the window from the outside after I closed it," Hogan explained. "Looks like we're stuck in here with each other whether you want us to be or not. So, we might as well make the best of it and talk which I believe they intended us to do from the start."

"Incroyable," LeBeau muttered slapping his forehead with an open palm as he plopped down on the lower bunk facing the American. "I cannot believe I could be fooled so easily."

Hogan tilted his head slightly. "Why did you come to see me anyway? I would have thought after we reached a decision, it was a done deal."

"When I heard you were going to resign your command and leave to try to not only keep the unit together, but so I would not have to leave the barracks, I could not allow you to do that." He hung his head shamefully. "It also made me realize what a fool I have been to force you to even consider such a drastic move." He lifted his head, eyes narrowing. "Wait, you told me you are not leaving. Were you telling me the truth, Colonel? You are not leaving us?"

"I promise I am not leaving. But, if that was the only way to keep this unit together I would have considered it in a heartbeat. I am curious though. Why should it matter to you if I stay or leave?"

LeBeau licked his lower lip. "Because I do not want you to leave. It took me realizing we could lose you to understand exactly how much of an ass I have been. I am so sorry for the things I said to you. I was more angry at myself and took it out on you instead. I had no right to speak to you as I did."

Hogan chuckled. "I know that, Louie. Apology accepted. I understood your anger was directed at yourself which is why I let you have your tirade. Normally I would decide on disciplinary measures for your blatant insubordination, but didn't because I wanted you to get it out of your system. And I would rather you direct the bulk of your anger at me than one of the others. But should it happen again I will not be so forgiving. Is that understood?"

"Oui. Merci." But LeBeau still looked worried and cringed. "But Colonel, I called you a murderer to your face."

"I've been called worse," Hogan joked.

"That is no excuse. I had no right to say the things I did to you. You only did what you thought best at the time. What happened wasn't your fault."

Hogan sighed. "I believe I should have foreseen what would happen and been prepared to handle it. I feel like I didn't protect those under my watch."

"Stop right there." LeBeau held up a hand. "How can you even think that, Colonel? You cannot read minds or foresee the future. You were barely able to keep me from getting killed. These things happen in war. What happened was not your fault. You cannot save everybody. We all know every time we go out on an assignment any one of us could die. You need to forgive yourself. We do not want to lose you as our commanding officer. We need you."

Hogan sighed. "Does that include you as well?"

"Oui, mon Colonel. I do not want to leave the team nor this barracks despite what I have told you. My friends and commanding officer are here. I want to stay. That is, if you will still have me after what has happened?"

Hogan chuckled. "Matter of fact, I need a hotheaded Frenchman on my team. Are you interested in the position?"

As a small smile formed on his face, LeBeau nodded his head excitedly. "Oui." But then his smile faded and he looked away slightly. "But what about Klink? What are you going to tell him?"

"I never told Klink anything about you wanting to change barracks. He thinks you received bad news from home and had an argument with Carter." Hogan saw the Frenchman's smile return and turn into a grin.

"Then things are all right between us, mon Colonel?"

Hogan grinned and nodded. "We're better than all right. Welcome back, LeBeau."

"Merci. It is good to be back." LeBeau suddenly shifted and looked down at the floor.

"Something still troubling you?" Hogan asked.

"Oui. I do not feel comfortable not being punished for the things I said to you."

"LeBeau…" Hogan began. He had to admire the Frenchman for wanting to be punished for his impertinence and insubordination.

"I insist, Colonel."

Hogan exhaled. "Very well." He thought for a few minutes then let a grin appear. "How does laundry detail for the next month sound to you?" The officer smirked watching the Frenchman nod eagerly at the agreed upon punishment.

"Merci. Now, do you think we can get Andre, Kinch, and Pierre to let us out of here?"

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

"Mon Colonel?" LeBeau asked worriedly. He felt as if the American hadn't been listening to him.

"Huh?" Hogan shook his head and looked at the Frenchman as if seeing him for the first time. "I'm sorry. I guess I was thinking of something else for a while. What were you saying?"

"I suggested you should try and get some rest. Something on your mind?"

"Nothing specific," Hogan lied. "Just worrying about Terry. My gut tells me I should not have sent him on this mission but I needed to see what he could do."

LeBeau reached up and rested both hands on Hogan's shoulders. "Do not worry. There's nobody I would trust somebody dear to me with than those three."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "I know you're right. I just wish I could shake this feeling that something is gonna go terribly wrong."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I wish to thank 96 Hubbles, Dust-On-The-Wind, and Snooky for the information they supplied regarding Hogan's flashback, and a special thanks to Snooky who allowed me to use information from a scene in her story The Outside Man. Finally, for those who are patiently or impatiently waiting to find out what happened at the bridge that night, the answer will come in chapter 15.  
**

**Chapter 13**

When the quartet reached their destination, Kinch motioned for everybody to get down behind the heavy foliage and stay quiet. A few feet in front of them and down a slight incline, was the factory in question. He motioned for Newkirk and Carter to check out the back of the factory and come right back. The duo nodded and slipped quietly away.

"What are we suppose to do now?" Carpenter asked in a voice so soft Kinch barely heard him.

Removing the binoculars hanging from a leather strap around his neck, Kinch peered through them at the factory below them. He watched the goings on outside the factory for a few minutes, before handing the binoculars to Terry. The Lieutenant looked in the same direction Kinch had, while the radioman took out a small notebook and pen.

"Tell me what you see?" Kinch asked.

"There's a high fence circling the factory with four guards patrolling outside the fence, and four more inside the fence. Looks like they're all armed with sub-machine guns."

"They're either MP38s or 40s," Kinch told him making a notation. "Their rate of fire is 500 rpm."

"Sounds like one of those can cut a person in half."

"That's about the size of it," Kinch replied. "What else?"

"There are what looks like two small foxholes, one on each side manned by two guards each. There's also a mounted machine gun outside each foxhole."

Kinch wrote down the information in his notebook then put it and his pen back inside his pocket. "Now that we know what security they have, we need to find something to pinpoint the location of the factory so our bombers can knock it out."

While Kinch had been talking, Terry scanned the area with the binoculars when a grin appeared on his face. "Is something like this what you had in mind?" He handed the binoculars to Kinch and pointed toward a grove of trees on the far side of the building near the back of the factory. Kinch looked in the direction Carpenter pointed. A grin appeared.

Two of the tallest trees standing side-by-side had each been cut to form what resembled a goalpost used in American football. Power lines ran from the factory to between the 'goalpost' to a nearby building which appeared to be a warehouse connected to the factory.

"You may have just found what we need," Kinch grinned.

The sudden sound of safeties being released from a pair of rifles behind them caught the two men by surprise causing both to freeze.

"Raise your hands slowly," a German voice ordered with authority.

Kinch's eyes shifted to Carpenter. He could tell Terry had been thinking of making a grab for the pistol in his waistband, and subtly shook his head. Both men raised their hands and placed them on top of their heads.

"On your feet, swine. Mach Schnell!" demanded a different voice. Kinch started to his feet, but Carpenter hesitated. The business end of a rifle pressed against the back of his head. "I said on your feet swine or die on your knees like the dog you are!" Shaking, Terry got to his feet. He thought how devastated Hogan and his father would be, and how the Colonel would blame himself. "Turn around, pigs!"

Kinch and Terry turned and faced their captors seeing two guards, their rifles aimed at their heads.

"Well, well, Hans, looks like we caught ourselves two spies." He kept his eyes on both men as his partner relieved each of their pistols and stuck them in his belt. "What should we do with them? Shoot them right here perhaps?"

"We can, Fredrick," Hans replied smirking. "But Captain Mainard will want to interrogate them first before they are executed." He gestured with his weapon. "Turn around and start walking!"

Kinch and Terry both turned and started walking when Kinch heard a noise behind him. He and Terry both looked around in time to see Hans with a strange look on his face and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth dribbling down his chin before he fell face down on the ground, a knife embedded in his back up to the hilt. Forgetting his captives, Fredrick whirled around to find the attacker allowing Kinch the chance to wrap an arm around the man's neck and apply ample pressure until a crack was heard and the man went limp in his arms. Kinch released the guard and let the body fall to the ground. He then retrieved the pistols from Fredrick's belt. Looking at Terry, the man appeared frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth hanging open at what he had just seen take place.

Newkirk and Carter stepped out of the darkness and joined their friends. The Englander, with a yank, pulled his knife out of the dead man's back and wiped it clean on his pants leg. "Can't leave you chaps alone for a bleedin' moment without you gettin' into trouble. Me and Carter were on our way back and saw these blokes come up behind you." Dropping to one knee, he pressed two fingers against the guard's neck, looked up, and shook his head. "Dead as a doornail."

"We'd best get out of here before somebody comes looking for these two," Kinch suggested. He grabbed Carpenter's arm but the man seemed in a daze. Feeling his stomach rolling, Carpenter suddenly crumbled to his knees and emptied his stomach of its contents.

"You all right, mate?" Newkirk asked gently resting a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I…I've never seen anybody killed like that. It's just…I didn't…."

"Try not to think about it right now," Kinch added helping Carpenter to his feet. He looked in the man's eyes. "We have to get out of here now. Can you make it?"

Unable to find his voice right now, Carpenter nodded, but allowed Kinch to keep a grip on his arm. Newkirk led the way back to camp with Kinch assisting Carpenter, and Carter bringing up the rear as the group returned to camp in silence.

* * *

Hogan had been pacing since his men and godson left camp and LeBeau sat at the table watching him worriedly. He had checked his own watch a short time ago and knew the men were late returning and the Colonel was not taking it well. He never did.

"Colonel, you are going to wear yourself out with your pacing. Please sit down and I will get you a cup of coffee. You are making me nervous."

Hogan kept pacing. "No thanks. They're nearly an hour late getting back. I hope nothing went wrong, but I can't shake this feeling something did."

LeBeau was about to reply when the lower bunk in the corner rattled upward. As the ladder dropped, Hogan and LeBeau both hurried forward standing over the tunnel opening. Kinch climbed up first and stepped into the room; Carter and Newkirk followed. Hogan noticed at once his godson wasn't with them and right away thought the worst. He looked below then straightened and stared at his radioman. LeBeau at once poured cups of coffee for everyone, including Hogan, before everybody sat down at the table.

"What happened?" the Colonel asked worriedly. "Where's Terry?"

"He's all right, Colonel," Kinch explained slowly. "He needed a little time before coming upstairs. We uh…we ran into a bit of trouble before we started back."

Hogan's eyebrows knitted together. "What kind of trouble?"

Kinch took a drink of coffee before looking into Hogan's face again. He carefully relayed the entire incident as the Colonel and LeBeau listened quietly. When he finished, Newkirk picked up the story.

"Andrew and me were heading back to rejoin Kinch and Lieutenant Carpenter, sir, when we saw them being held at gunpoint," Newkirk continued. "I had Andrew keep watch with his pistol in case anything went wrong, while I moved in close enough to use me pencil sharpener."

"When the other guard turned around, that's when I grabbed him around his neck and broke it," Kinch added sadly. "I didn't want to do that in front of Lieutenant Carpenter, Colonel, but I had no choice."

"Are any of you hurt?" asked a worried LeBeau.

Newkirk shook his head. "We're all fine. Also, we didn't see anybody else afterwards nor on our way back here."

"We got the info London wanted, Colonel," Kinch said. "And a means for the bombers to pinpoint the factory."

Hogan exhaled deeply. "Thank heavens nobody was hurt or worse. Kinch, you said you got the information and a way for the bombers to locate the factory?"

"Yes, sir." The radioman proceeded to explain what he and Carpenter had seen and the identifying marker for the planes. In addition, Newkirk and Carter could only add that they had seen guards with machine guns patrolling the back of the factory as well.

Hogan nodded. "Good work all of you. Kinch, code that information and send it to London asap. I'm gonna go talk with Terry." The Colonel got to his feet.

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied watching his commanding officer turn away and walk towards the tunnel entrance which had remained open.

Hogan eventually found his godson sitting on a bench in the changing room with head down and hands clasped between his knees. The young man didn't bother looking up when Hogan entered the room or when he sat down beside him.

"Kinch and Newkirk told me," the Colonel asked quietly. "How are you doing?" He rested a hand on the man's back and rubbed gently.

Carpenter shrugged. "I'll be okay, I guess. You don't need to worry about me, Rob."

"I know that. It's just, well, I understand you saw one of my men do something you probably never expected. I can understand how seeing somebody kill another person with their bare hands for the first time can have an effect on someone. I know how I reacted the first time I saw it happen."

Carpenter looked over at Hogan. "How did you deal with it if I may ask?"

Exhaling, Hogan ran his hands up and down his thighs as he dug deep into the recesses of his mind to a time long buried but not forgotten. It took him a few extra moments to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I had been sent to a transit camp from the interrogation center. There were thousands of prisoners there, both officers and noncoms, all waiting to be assigned to either an Oflag or a Stalag."

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

The men were crowded in the Wretzlar Transit Center outside Frankfurt like a herd of cattle. There were other officers among the prisoners, even other Colonels, but as far as Colonel Robert Hogan was able to tell, he was apparently the highest ranking officer there. Here, Hogan felt like a fish-out-of-water so to speak. Normally a take-charge guy, he was on edge constantly while trying to find out how things worked here not to mention the tension he felt. He was exhausted from being in Wretzlar three weeks longer than four or five days like other prisoners. But he understood it was due to him not only being an officer, but a commander. He understood his captors were not about to part with a prized possession until they had wrung every ounce of information, dignity and pride they could from him. And although he had to admit things were better here than at the Interrogation Center at Oberursal, his experiences there had left him bruised, battered, bloodied, stiff, sore, and a feeling of hopelessness started to permeate his thoughts. And to make matters worse, the Kommandant at Wretzlar, Oberstleutnant Otto Rusbridge, had told Hogan he would not only continue to question him, but break the spirit the American had maintained at Oberursal and had been talked about in the Colonel's file.

Hogan found himself in an unfamiliar environment, albeit a temporary one, and he was angry. Not only angry at himself for letting himself be shot down, but at his captors, at being pulled out of his cell at all hours for interrogations, not being allowed much sleep, and when refusing to cooperate, starved. The entire experience had shaken his confidence badly.

But despite how he himself was affected, it did not hinder his observations to detail and to those around him, both prisoners and guards. Being the ranking officer, he needed to look after those beneath him. They were all in a difficult situation, Hogan included; and he understood here the prisoners' options were limited. There was maltreatment of a few of the prisoners, bullying by a few guards, verbal abuse, and poor rations to those prisoners being mistreated, but it was not widespread. Feeling the need to look after the men might help take his mind off his own problems, Hogan had demanded an audience with the Kommandant of the transit camp and refused to take no for an answer. But the Kommandant not only refused to see or talk to him, but ordered the American thrown into solitary for three days without visitors and put on starvation rations. But when word of Hogan's actions and punishment filtered among the other prisoners, it did boost the sagging morale just a bit of the others knowing at least someone was willing to step up and fight for them.

But it was a young nineteen-year-old Private named Matthew Reynolds, a gunner on a plane, who concerned him the most. The man, a boy really, was not taking his captivity well and often spoke back to certain guards. In fact, the kid resembled someone who could explode at any time unless somebody interceded. Hogan, being strong on cause and effect, understood the consequences if the Corporal didn't get a grip on his emotions. In fact, twice Hogan had taken the young man aside after a meeting with one of the abusive guards, and talked to him. In fact, he got to know him quite well. He reminded him he would only be at the transit center a short time, and his negative response to a guard, abusive or otherwise, could have deadly consequences.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

"My God. What did you do?" Carpenter asked paying close attention to Hogan's story.

Hogan sighed wearily. "He was so scared. I could tell his experience at the interrogation center had driven him past his endurance. So I thought if I talked to him I might be able to let him know he'd only be at the transit center for a short time, not to over-react to things, and that he's not alone. I really thought I had gotten through to him. He seemed to calm down a bit and didn't react the few times he had been bullied. But I soon found out I was wrong."

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

Hogan had just been released from solitary after three days of not seeing or speaking with anyone and being given just enough food and water to stay alive. No sooner had he been approached by a small group of prisoners, then a Luftwaffe guard, Sergeant Ziegler, who was one of the guards who liked to bully prisoners, appeared beside Hogan from out of nowhere. The prisoners who were with Hogan suddenly turned and walked away leaving the American by himself. Ziegler leaned his head close to Hogan's ear and spoke in a low voice.

"I am watching you swine. All I need is one wrong move by you and you will wish they had killed you at Oberursal. I will make your stay there seem like a picnic." Hogan didn't look at him or respond. He kept his eyes focused on a spot on the wall in front of him. Grinding his teeth, Ziegler abruptly turned and stormed away. His eyes fell at once on somebody else and a smirk appeared.

Approaching Private Reynolds, he noticed the young man stare at him with fear on his face and it delighted him. But unknown to either man, Hogan was also watching. He started forward to protect Reynolds, but before he could take a step, he was grabbed from behind by two guards who held him so tightly by both arms he grimaced from the pain as he strained against being held. In his weakened condition from starvation rations for three days, his best effort produced very little results; all he could do was watch.

Ziegler stood facing Reynolds and poked him in the chest hard with his rifle causing the Private to stumble backward but keep his balance. The Private ground his lower jaw. "You have something you want to say to me swine?" He shoved him again. This time Reynolds knocked the guard's hand away.

"Leave him alone!" Hogan managed to shout in a weakened voice. Turning, Ziegler smirked at him before turning back to Reynolds who looked about to cry. Ziegler chuckled.

"Cry like the baby you are, swine. This is why your country has done nothing to help you. They don't want an embarrassment like you serving them. Tell me, swine, does your mother know what a crybaby she has as a child?" That's when it happened.

Without warning, Reynolds drew back his fist and struck Ziegler in the jaw so hard the guard fell backward and a crack heard when his head hit the floor at an odd angle.

Reynolds stood staring down at the body as silence at once blanketed the room. Hogan momentarily closed his eyes not believing what he had just seen. They flew open again upon hearing the gunshot. The body of Private Reynolds lay face-down slumped across Ziegler's legs, blood running from the back of his head and a guard stood over the body, a puff of smoke coming from the business end of his rifle and a look of disdain on his face. The guard roughly seized the back of the Private's shirt and tossed his body aside like garbage.

It was too much for Hogan. Despite his own aches and pains, he tried breaking away from his captors yelling that the Private had been provoked and deserved a trial. He also demanded he be taken to Kommandant Rusbridge to demand an investigation of the entire matter be conducted. He paused at the sound of safeties being removed and three rifles pointed at him. He and the guard who had shot the Private glared at each other. It was not that Hogan had stopped fighting at that exact moment, but because he understood the consequences if he continued to try and break free of the guards holding him.

"Give me a reason swine. I have no qualms in shooting you as I did the pig. The riffraff here must be kept in line," the guard smirked.

Hogan didn't respond. He was angry. Angry with Reynolds for losing control, with the Krauts for allowing the situation to arise, and for the killing of a young man who had been pushed past his endurance. But mostly, he was angry at himself for his failure to control a situation which he knew was out of his control from the beginning. He also felt tremendous guilt, not so much for the dead guard, but for the young Private whose life was wasted due to a momentarily loss of self-control. And guilt he had failed the young man.

Afterwards, Hogan had been dragged into the Kommandant's office. After Rusbridge learned what happened, he did two things. First, he stated Sergeant Ziegler was murdered by an American dog who was obviously unbalanced and had been dealt with appropriately. Hogan argued but was dealt such a vicious backhand across the face he saw stars. Rusbridge then ordered the Colonel thrown back into solitary for two weeks and again put on starvation rations claiming he encouraged Reynolds and was a troublemaker himself. As Hogan was dragged out of the door, Rusbridge pointed out with a smirk that the information he would rip from the officer was the only reason he hadn't given the order to have him executed. Added to Hogan's punishment, his interrogations were increased daily at all hours leaving the American suffering more from lack of sleep, exhaustion, and more sore, bruised and bloody as old wounds starting to heal had reopened along with new ones. And he was starving.

After another of his physically vigorous interrogations, Hogan painfully lay down on the hard straw mattress in his cell. There wasn't one area of his body that didn't hurt. But despite his situation, he organized the entire incident with Reynolds and the guard in his mind, determined to report it to HQ should he somehow manage to escape. But the two weeks passed slowly for Hogan while in solitary this time. The abusive guards taunted him every chance they got, including the one who shot Reynolds who made a point of reminding Hogan that he would be waiting for him when he got released. Hogan made a promise to himself that when he got released, he would find a way to protect the men from these few guards, give comfort to Reynolds' few friends in camp, and above all, find a way to get rid of the guard who shot Reynolds.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

"Did you?" Carpenter asked.

"Did I what?" Hogan replied looking at the man wearily.

"Get rid of the guard who shot Private Reynolds?"

A small smile appeared on Hogan's face. "I did, but it wasn't easy. With the aid of two of Reynolds' friends, and two of the more humane guards neither of whom liked Corporal Manfred who was the guard who shot Reynolds, and abusive himself, we set him up to appear he'd been stealing from the other guards."

"Did it work?"

"It did. One day Corporal Manfred suddenly wasn't there anymore. We never found out what happened to him, nor did we care." Hogan exhaled. "I wrote a letter to Private Reynolds family and told them their son died honorably while serving his country. I couldn't have them know their son died a murderer. I held onto that letter until we sent a downed flyer to London and gave it to him to take with him." Hogan paused again. "The point I'm trying to make is that up until Ziegler's death, I had never seen anybody killed with another person's bare hands. In fact, I had never seen anybody killed in front of me before either. As pilots in the sky, all we think about are the targets on the ground below, not the civilians. Unfortunately, with the work we do, we often come face-to-face with the people we are sometimes forced to kill. Sometimes it comes down to kill or be killed. We try not to, but it's not always possible because for us it's a matter of survival."

Terry shifted a bit on his seat. "Do you ever think about Private Reynolds at times?"

"I do. But I had to put the blame I put on myself behind me so I could move on and do my job. It wasn't easy and it took a long time. But I believe the entire incident influenced me to this day on how I deal with the men here in Stalag 13. Don't misunderstand. By that I don't mean I refuse to send them on dangerous missions. The Allies winning the war is what's most important. But it has made me unusually protective of them between assignments. It also means I will get very sharp with them if I believe they did something foolhardy or stupid."

Terry nodded while looking at his hands, rubbing them together between his knees. "I understand a little better about what Kinch did and why. I have to admit though I never thought about things from the perspective of being a pilot as opposed to being grounded." He looked in his godfather's face and smiled affectionately. "I never realized what happened to you at the transit center. I'm glad you survived and recovered."

Hogan clapped him on the back. "So am I. Kinch should have gotten that information off to London by now. Why don't you change and we'll head upstairs and get some sleep."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

An hour after morning roll call, Kinch climbed up into the barracks from the tunnels to find Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Lieutenant Carpenter seated around the table drinking coffee. He held a folded piece of blue paper torn from the pad on which he wrote incoming messages.

"Want some oatmeal?" asked LeBeau getting to his feet.

"Nah," Kinch replied striking the hidden mechanism and watching the ladder rise and lower bunk drop over the tunnel opening. "Just coffee, thanks." He looked around the room as LeBeau placed a mug on the table and poured the steaming hot brew. "Where's the Colonel?"

"He's sleeping in his quarters," Carpenter explained taking a drink of coffee.

The hand holding the coffee mug paused before reaching Kinch's mouth; his eyes narrowed. "Asleep?" He glanced at his watch. "At this time of the morning? Is he all right?" He looked at Carpenter.

Carpenter shrugged. "Far as I could tell," he explained. "Following roll call this morning, he said he had work to do in his quarters and to call him when breakfast was ready."

"I knocked on his door when the oatmeal was ready," LeBeau continued. "He did not answer. So I looked inside and found him sound asleep at his desk. I did not want to wake him, so I pulled the blanket from the top bunk and covered him with it so he would not catch cold."

"Besides," Carpenter picked it up from there. "I think it's better if he sleeps anyway. After he and I came back upstairs last night, he couldn't sleep. I think he was still upset about what happened with those guards. He climbed up on the top bunk and all he did was toss and turn. By the time I finally fell asleep, he was still tossing and turning so I can't say if he ever got any sleep. All I can tell you is he was already up and dressed when I woke this morning for roll call."

"He was pretty upset about what nearly happened last night at the factory," Newkirk agreed. "What d'ya need to see the Gov'nor about anyway, mate?"

Kinch held up the folded paper. "Message from London. They send their warmest thanks for the information about the factory, and the bombers are on their way as we speak."

"Kinch is right," Newkirk said lighting a cigarette he had stuck between his lips. He took a drag and blew out the smoke. "The Gov'nor will be madder than a wet hen if we don't tell 'im."

"Tell me what?" a sleepy voice said.

The men all turned to see their commanding officer, running a hand through his dark hair before donning his cap. He zipped up his jacket as he approached the table. Grabbing an empty mug from the table he poured himself half-a-cup of coffee and savored the dark brew as he took a drink. "Now what is it you have to tell me, Kinch?"

The radioman handed the message to Hogan who put his cup down on the table, unfolded the paper, and quickly read the message. A slow smile crossed his face. "Looks like by this evening the Krauts will be missing a rocket factory." A glance at the men's faces told him they already knew about it. Folding the paper, Hogan stuck it in his inner jacket pocket and picked up his coffee mug again.

"You okay after your nap?" Terry asked looking up into Hogan's tired eyes.

"Much better," Hogan lied. "That nap, though short, was just what I needed."

"I have some oatmeal left over, mon Colonel," said LeBeau. "If you want something…"

"No thanks, I'm not hungry. Coffee's plenty." The thought of food made Hogan nauseous.

Without warning, the barracks door opened, and in waddled the obese form of Sergeant Schultz.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" asked an annoyed Newkirk with a roll of his eyes.

But Schultz was in a jovial mood. "And why should I knock?" he asked. "Were you up to monkey business again perhaps?"

"What monkey business you talkin' about, Schultz?" asked Carter.

"Do you see any monkeys in here?" teased Newkirk looking up at the large man. "I mean, we have plenty of prisoners in here, and we haven't had any new ones of late." He looked around the barracks. "…we have Americans, French, Canadians, and English. Sorry, Schultzie, no monkeys. You might try the zoo. I understand there are monkeys there." There were chuckles from the others.

Schultz stuck his thumbs in his belt over his large stomach. "Jolly joker," he griped.

"What d'ya want, Schultz?" Hogan asked. With his sadness threatening to burst forth again, Hogan didn't look at anybody; instead, he kept his eyes focused on a spot on the table.

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants you in his office right away."

"What for?" Hogan asked taking a drink of coffee.

"He did not tell me. But it might have something to do with General Burkhalter's visit tomorrow."

Hogan's head turned in the direction of the guard. "Why is old roly-poly coming here?"

"Colonel Hogan, it's not nice to refer to General Burkhalter as old roly-poly. All I know is the Kommandant became very nervous after the General's phone call."

Hogan exhaled before draining his coffee cup. "Okay. Let's go see what the Iron Eagle wants." Hogan followed Schultz out of the barracks.

"You call a Luftwaffe General old roly-poly?" Terry chuckled looking at the others after Hogan and Schultz had left.

'That's one of the nicer things we call him," Carter interjected with a grin.

"Who is this General Burkhalter anyway?" asked Terry.

"He's Klink's boss," Kinch explained. "And our fearless Kommandant is scared to death of him."

"And still you call Klink the Iron Eagle?" asked Terry with a smirk.

"The Iron Eagle. Old Blood 'n Guts. Take your choice," LeBeau added.

Newkirk took a drag on his cigarette and smirked. "Those are Klink's nicknames for himself. Feels they'll strike fear in the hearts of those with whom he comes in contact."

LeBeau chuckled. "All they really do is cause laughter in those who meet him."

Terry found himself chuckling. The things he discovered about Stalag 13 and the Germans in charge, to him anyway, are the things of which comedies are made.

* * *

When Hogan walked in behind Schultz, Klink's blond secretary, Hilda, looked up from her typing and smiled sweetly at the handsome American. Hogan smiled back winking at the blond as he walked around her desk and began nuzzling her neck causing her to giggle. Schultz smirked and shook his head as he knocked on Klink's door.

"Come in," came an authoritative voice from inside.

Opening the door, Schultz saluted Klink who returned the salute and looked up, surprised seeing the guard alone.

"Where is Colonel Hogan? I asked you to bring him with you." They heard Hilda's giggling. Klink rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"He's in the waiting room," Schultz said chuckling.

"Dummkopf, I can hear. Tell him to get in here and then you're dismissed."

But before Schultz could say anything, Hogan sauntered into the room wiping a red smear off his cheek with his fingers. He glanced over his shoulders at the rotund guard.

"You heard the man, Schultz. You're dismissed," he said innocently.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Kommandant?" Hogan asked with a sloppy salute standing in front of Klink's desk, looking bored and disinterested.

Looking up from behind his desk, Klink returned the officer's salute; then, his blue eyes narrowed as he studied his American counterpart. He noticed something seemed off with the American and had been this way for the past week. He remembered Hogan had this same look about six months ago.

_**(Flashback):**_

Klink had noticed during evening roll call that Hogan looked disheveled and not well. Sensing the American might be ill, he demanded Hogan see the medic right away. Reluctantly, Hogan, not only overwhelmed emotionally by what happened, but by the tension with LeBeau as well, sought out Wilson. He explained what happened at the bridge, as the medic examined him. Satisfied there were no physical injuries, he then talked with the Senior POW officer. He reported to Klink there was nothing physically wrong with the officer, and that Hogan's problem seemed to be emotional instead. Hearing this, Klink secretly wondered if Hogan was finally succumbing to the stress and strain of prison life, and of being solely responsible for over one thousand men.

He followed up the next day by ordering Master Sergeant Matthew Wilkerson, the barracks chief of barracks eight, and a psychologist, to talk to Hogan and report back to him. Wilkerson had spent ten years in the military, and nearly finished with school majoring in psychology when the war began and the Army called him back to duty. He agreed to speak with the American officer but advised Klink he would need more than one day to be able to give the Kommandant an honest diagnosis. Klink agreed to the request.

When Wilkerson spoke with the Colonel later that day, Hogan repeated what happened and told him what to tell Klink. He and Wilkerson talked several more times during that week. Wilkerson reported to the Kommandant that Hogan was sad because it was his mother's birthday and he wasn't able to celebrate it with her. Klink accepted the explanation and the matter was dropped. True to Wilkerson's words, Hogan seemed to bounce back after a few days. Klink considered Hogan back to normal and forgot about the incident.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

* * *

But now, six months later, Klink saw Hogan again looking unwell, and ordered Wilkerson and Wilson to speak with and examine Hogan again. The Colonel explained it was the six month anniversary of the destruction of the Schermerhorn Bridge, and he was grieving over what had happened. Knowing Klink was expecting reports from both men, Hogan told them the same thing. Wilson reported nothing was physically wrong. Wilkerson reported Hogan received a letter from home telling him his mother, who was getting older, had been in ill health of late, and he was worried she might not live long enough to welcome him home from the war. In his opinion, Colonel Hogan would be fine in a few days and not to worry. Satisfied, Klink again dropped the matter believing his American counterpart was fine or soon would be.

Klink could understand and sympathize with how the American felt. His own mother had become ill without warning and passed away only two years ago shortly after her eighty-ninth birthday and he never got to say goodbye to her. But as Wilkerson had predicted, days later, Hogan did seem to 'bounce back' as the Americans would say and seemed to be his usual annoying self again.

"Are you going to tell me why you wanted to see me or sit and stare at me?" Hogan asked hooking his thumbs in his jacket pockets. Hogan's question woke Klink up from his thoughts.

"Yes. I received a phone call from General Burkhalter**. **He is coming here tomorrow to look at the books, and I want you to have LeBeau prepare a delicious French dinner."

Hogan sighed and the words left his mouth before he knew what he was saying. "Kommandant, don't you think LeBeau has better things to do than to cook for every Hans, Fritz and Adolph who comes here?"

Klink's jaw dropped at Hogan's impertinence. The man was trying his best to annoy him and he wasn't going to stand for it.

"Hogan, I don't care what other things LeBeau has to do. You will consider it an order."

Hogan sighed. "Fine. What are you offering in exchange?"

Klink sighed as well. "What do you want?"

The American shrugged. "Let's start with an extra hour of electric light in the barracks, and one extra shower per man."

Klink slowly got to his feet and planted his hands, palms down, on the desk. He stared hard at Hogan. "Let's say thirty extra minutes of electric light and we forget the extra shower per man?" He refused to let Hogan get the better of him this time.

Hogan shrugged and turned towards the door preparing to leave. "Hope you and the General enjoy your dinner from Dial-a-Mess-hall." His hand gripped the doorknob.

"All right. All right. All right." Klink caved at once and collapsed back in his chair looking defeated. "One extra hour of electric light in the barracks, and one extra shower per man."

"Thank you, sir. Am I dismissed?" Hogan asked.

"You're dismissed," Klink replied not looking at the American. He heard the door open. "Hogan?"

The Colonel, who had been out the door, paused and looked back. "Sir?"

"Make sure you're not late tomorrow evening. Dinner's at seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock. I'll be there." He gave a sloppy salute and left the office closing the door. Passing Hilda's desk, he grinned at her devilishly while reaching for the doorknob. He suddenly let go of the doorknob, walked back to her desk, and leaning over, pressed his lips to her forehead. He then left the building

On the porch of the Kommandantur, Hogan ran both hands down his face before walking down the steps. His gaze fell momentarily on barracks two, and instead of heading back there, he veered off in a different direction walking quickly until he came to barracks ten which he knew to be empty. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by people asking questions. He wanted, no needed, to be alone. He went inside and closed the door. He fell back against the door, slid down to the floor, and buried his face in his hands shaking his head. _What is wrong with me?_ he thought.

Raising his head, he let the back of his head hit the door and stared into space. When in Klink's office he had an urge to run. His overwhelming need to be alone for a while was so powerful, and barracks ten was the only place he could think of.

He had seen the way Klink looked at him and suspected he was thinking the same thing he had a few months ago, and Hogan couldn't let that happen again. He believed he would have to not only be more careful around the men, but around Terry and Klink as well. In addition, he would have to keep a tighter rein on his emotions which even now, were bursting to the surface as his body was wracked with deep sadness. He let his head fall forward and sighed.

He was so unhappy right now. He took in and let out a deep breath through his mouth. Just thinking about what happened that night six months ago caused the memories to come flooding back as if it only happened yesterday. With the back of his head against the door again, he closed his eyes.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

The day after the Schermerhorn Bridge was destroyed, Hogan, Carter, Newkirk and Kinch sat outside barracks two quietly staring at the activity in the compound. After what happened the night before, none of them felt like participating in anything. In addition, the tension between Hogan and LeBeau, and LeBeau and Carter, explained why the Frenchman wasn't with them, preferring not to be with or talk to either.

"Looks like we have company," Kinch remarked, his eyes focused on the black staff car coming through the front gate. As it got closer the red flags emblazoned with the swastika on them flapped in the breeze.

"Oh great," Hogan groaned. "Just what we need on top of last night. A visit from the Gestapo and old lovable Hochstetter." He and the others watched the car pull up in front of the Kommandantur and a short mustached man wearing black emerged and stormed up the steps and inside the building.

Forcing himself to his feet, Hogan opened the door of the barracks. "Time for a coffee break, gentlemen." With Newkirk the last to enter, the Colonel grabbed his arm. "Newkirk, have LeBeau join us. This concerns him as well."

"Yes, sir."

Inside Hogan's private quarters, Kinch was getting out the coffee pot which doubled as a receiver enabling them to listen in on all conversations in the Kommandant's office. The door opened and in walked Newkirk followed by LeBeau who scowled at both Carter and the Colonel.

"I am only here because Pierre told me this concerns all of us," he growled at Hogan as Kinch plugged in the coffeepot.

"_Ah, Major Hochstetter. Always a pleasure to welcome a member of our illustrious Gestapo."_

"_Klink, save your bootlicking for General Burkhalter because it won't work with me."_

"_Yes, sir. Now, what can I do for the Gestapo?"_

"_Klink, where was Colonel Hogan last night?"_

"_He was in his barracks where he should be."_

"_All night?"_

"_Of course. What is this about, Major?"_

"_Tell me, Klink. Did you spend the night in Hogan's quarters_?"

"_Of course not! Why would I spend…"_

"_Then how do you know he was there all night?"_

"_I assumed so since he was here at evening roll call…"_

"_Klink, I don't want your assumptions! I want Colonel Hogan brought here for questioning. Now, Klink!"_

"_Right away, Major. Schuuuuuultzzzz!" _

_There was the sound of a door opening and closing._

"_Sergeant Schultz reporting as ordered, Herr Kommandant."_

"_Schultz, I want you to bring Colonel Hogan here right away. Major Hochstetter wishes to question him."_

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." _

"What are you gonna do, Colonel?" asked Kinch worriedly.

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself. He sighed knowing he had to bury his grief and pull himself together before Schultz came for him. "I have no idea. Keep the coffee pot plugged in and listen. If it sounds like things are going badly, don't worry about me. Contact London and have them send a plane big enough, then get everybody out of here. And I mean everybody."

"Wha….?" Newkirk began wide-eyed. "You can't be askin' us to leave you behind, Gov'nor?"

"That's an order," Hogan said in his authoritative voice.

"Colonel, don't ask us to leave you behind," Carter interjected with his sad, puppy-dog eyes.

Hogan sighed. "Carter, if things go badly, I'll feel much better knowing all the men here are safe."

Hearing a knock on Hogan's door, Kinch quickly unplugged the coffeepot and hid it before the Colonel opened the door of his quarters.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

All Hogan did was take in and let out a deep breath and let his grief take over…again.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Two chapters in two days. I decided to post chapter 15 now as a treat to all those who have stuck with this story waiting to find out what happened at the bridge.  
**

**Chapter 15**

Memories of the Gestapo's visit to Stalag 13 continued flooding his mind. Hogan rubbed his forehead as the pounding in his head intensified as did his anxiety and agitation. He remembered Schultz standing outside his door looking at him with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan. But you are wanted in Kommandant Klink's office by order of Major Hochstetter," he had explained. Schultz didn't like the Gestapo any more than Hogan or Klink, and hated whenever they showed up at Stalag 13 because it always meant trouble. Of course, Hochstetter's obsession with the American officer was no secret, since whenever something occurred in the area, the man always headed to Stalag 13 looking for Hogan.

Of course, Hogan and his men were responsible for a majority of the happenings in the area, but the officer believed Hochstetter now took to blaming him for things he had nothing to do with whatsoever.

Hogan recalled looking at the faces of the men in front of him for perhaps the final time. Then with a sigh, he had exited the room and shut the door. The minute the door closed, he trusted Kinch would pull out the coffeepot again and plug it in so they could listen.

The Colonel took a deep breath attempting to calm himself as his mind replayed his face-to-face meeting with Hochstetter and what happened at the Schermerhorn Bridge.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

Klink stared at the Gestapo Major with knitted eyebrows as he got to his feet. He walked around his desk until he stood in front of the Major. "Major Hochstetter, what's happened? You are being quite mysterious."

"Klink, last night the Schermerhorn Bridge was blown to pieces not ten miles from this camp."

"Destroyed?"

"Completely. I suspect sabotage."

"Then what are you doing here if you…"

Hochstetter slammed his fist down on Klink's desk so hard it caused the Colonel to jump. "Because Klink, I suspect Hogan is involved in the destruction of the bridge and in the three deaths as well."

Back in Hogan's quarters, hearing those last words, LeBeau swore under his breath and stormed out of the small room slamming the door behind him. Newkirk started to go after him, but Kinch's hand on his arm stopped him.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

Hogan massaged his forehead, his grief becoming overwhelming.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

"Three deaths, Major?" asked a stunned Kommandant, his jaw dropping. But before Hochstetter responded, the door opened and Hogan walked in closing the door behind him. He gave Klink a sloppy salute.

"You wanted to see me, Kommandant?" asked Hogan ignoring the Gestapo agent behind him. He used these few seconds to gather all his strength to keep his face unreadable despite his mourning.

"I wanted to see you, Hogan," Hochstetter sneered staring at the American. "You will sit down, Colonel. I have several questions to ask you." Hogan sat down and crossed his arms and legs.

Klink looked at the American as he walked back around his desk and sat down slowly. "Hogan, Major Hochstetter has several questions he wants to ask you. I suggest you answer his questions and not play any games."

"Klink, stay out of this!" Hochstetter growled glaring at the Kommandant who seemed to wilt under the Major's harsh stare. He then turned a smug grin in Hogan's direction. "Tell me, Colonel Hogan, where were you last night?"

"In my barracks, Major. Why? Was I suppose to be someplace else?" Hogan asked looking up at the Major with an innocent expression.

"So the Kommandant has told me. Of course I only have your word you were in your barracks last night. Can you prove where you say you were?"

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you can ask my mother."

Hochstetter paused, puzzled. "What has your mother to do with this?"

Hogan forced a smirk on his face. "I dreamt about her last night. And my mother wouldn't lie. She'd tell you I dreamt about her." He saw Hochstetter's face darken and his eyes flashing.

"Hogaaaaannnn!" Klink shook his finger at the American as a warning. "I'm warning you."

"Klink!" Hochstetter hissed before turning his attention back to Hogan. "I will have no more of your lies, Hogan! I believe you are responsible for the destruction of the Schermerhorn Bridge last night!"

"A bridge blew up last night?" Hogan's eyebrows arched. "Now how would I know that?"

"It happened ten miles from this camp. You mean to tell me you didn't hear the explosion?"

"I slept so soundly last night if Lana Turner came into my room I wouldn't have woke up," Hogan forced a smirk on his face which took great effort.

The Major, raising and shaking a clenched fist, became so angry at first Hogan thought the man was going to strike him. Instead, a growling Hochstetter leaned forward placing both hands on the arms of the chair Hogan was seated in, and brought his face close to the American's. The two men stared into each other eyes. Hochstetter smirked.

"Hogan, I know you are responsible. But maybe you don't care about that as much as the three people whose deaths for which you are responsible."

Hogan struggled to keep his expression and composure unreadable. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Major."

"Don't you?" Hochstetter replied straightening up and walked around the chair, never taking his eyes off the American. "We have identified all three of the dead. One was a guard on night duty patrolling the bridge; the other his young wife."

Hogan swallowed hard. The grief became harder to control. He took in and let out a deep breath. "I thought there was a curfew prohibiting civilians from being outside after dark?"

"There is. But she was bringing her husband his dinner since he was on night duty. Oh, by the way, did I mention she was eight months pregnant at the time?"

Hogan remained silent but shifted in his chair which didn't go unnoticed by Hochstetter. Klink, on the other hand, appeared stunned, his jaw dropping.

"You seem to be upset by the news, Colonel Hogan," a twisted grin appeared. "Could it be because you are responsible for her death, that of her unborn child, and her husband?"

"I am upset, Major. But not because I'm responsible for anything. It's because it saddens me about the young woman and her unborn child."

Hochstetter sat on the edge of Klink's desk facing the American who kept his eyes straight ahead. He hoped the Major didn't see his grief trying to fight to the surface. Hogan let out another deep breath.

"Since it saddens you so much, Colonel Hogan, wouldn't you'd prefer to get the guilt off your chest by confessing? I guarantee that you would feel so much better afterwards. I mean, you must have tremendous guilt over murdering a young pregnant woman. Did I mention it was her first child?"

Hogan sighed. "No, you didn't. Major, I'd like to help you but I can't confess to something I didn't do. I wasn't there." Hogan clasped his hands around his top knee taking another deep breath and letting it out through his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hochstetter getting frustrated. "By the way, didn't you say there was a third person killed?"

"Ja. His name was Claude Benoit, a suspected member of the underground whom we had been watching for the last three months."

"Really?" Hogan asked in a strained voice which fortunately Hochstetter didn't seem to notice. He fondly remembered the nineteen-year-old who had one year ago joined the underground wanting to be like his uncle, Maurice Dubois(1). Hogan remembered how difficult it had been to break the news to Dubois about his nephew, and offered his and his men's condolences.

Knowing Hogan as well as he did, Dubois had no doubt Hogan was blaming himself for his nephew's death, and begged him not to blame himself. Also, he did not hold Hogan responsible in any way. But he still knew the Colonel would blame himself, and would for awhile. It was common knowledge among those in the underground. The man always blamed himself for everything that went wrong.

"You've been very quiet since I mentioned Claude Benoit's name, Colonel," Hochstetter smirked. "Perhaps you are too full of grief over his death along with the others knowing you killed them?" He leaned forward again gripping the arms of the chair and brought his face close to Hogan who didn't meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare at his own lap. "Well, Hogan? The guilt must be eating you up inside, no? How does it feel knowing you're personally responsible for the deaths of a young man of nineteen, a young woman of twenty-three, her unborn child, and her husband. How does it feel to be a child killer?"

"I'll tell you one last time, Major. I was nowhere near that bridge when it was destroyed."

With a growl Hochstetter suddenly straightened up, marched to the door of Klink's office and yanked it open. "Very well, Hogan," he hissed. "You can return to your barracks."

Hogan forced himself to calmly get to his feet and started to leave the room, but stopped when Hochstetter used an arm to block his path.

"I will be watching you, Hogan. Believe me when I tell you I will find the proof you are responsible. And when I do, you will regret it I promise you." He dropped his arm allowing the American to pass.

Hogan felt the sadness making its way to his face. He quickly glanced at Hochstetter then over his shoulder at the Kommandant. He saluted Klink sloppily as usual. "Always a pleasure, Major," he commented to Hochstetter before quickly leaving the office. The door slammed shut behind him.

Hogan exited the Kommandantur forcing himself to keep up a brisk walking pace because he felt Hochstetter's eyes on him from the window. The grief overwhelmed him now and his lower lip trembled as he reached barracks two, pushed open the door and entered, slamming the door behind him. He marched past the other men in the common room and threw open the door to his quarters where Newkirk, Kinch and Carter were waiting.

"Get out!" he ordered, anguish all over his face.

"Colonel…" Kinch began.

"_I said get out!"_

The three men left the smaller room and had just stepped into the common room when Hogan slammed the door shut behind them; the vibrations shaking the door. They stood outside the door and heard the sound of something shattering having been thrown against a wall. Newkirk reached for the doorknob but Kinch stopped him.

"Mate, the Gov'nor needs us after what that ruddy bastard Hochstetter did to 'im, tauntin' 'im like he did."

"I agree. But I wouldn't go in there right now," Kinch replied. "Colonel Hogan needs space and time, and we have to give it to him. He'll come to us when he's ready."

Hogan never approached any of his men for the rest of the day or night.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

The following day, other than roll call, Hogan remained in his quarters grieving. In addition, Hochstetter never found any connection between Hogan and the destruction of the Schermerhorn Bridge.

* * *

Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. His head hurt so much right now he thought he would die from the pain. Opening his eyes again, he brought his knees up to his chest and dangled his clasped hands over them. He raised his head and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about Claude Benoit, or the young pregnant woman whose name he didn't even know. Hogan began to wonder if Hochstetter had been right when he called him a murderer? Had LeBeau? The Colonel leaned his head back against the door as he remembered when everything went wrong.

* * *

_**(Flashback):**_

The mission was suppose to be fairly simple according to London. The Schermerhorn Bridge was a problem. After curfew, the bridge was primarily used to transport military vehicles and tanks to German troops. A recon job by the underground reported to Hogan indicating only a single guard regularly patrolled the bridge at night, and that the guards were rotated weekly so the same guard was never on duty continuously.

With that info in mind, Hogan ordered Carter to come up with eight sets of explosives and timers and have them ready in forty-eight hours. Also, he requested an underground operative familiar with the area in case there was a problem. Within twenty-four hours, Claude Benoit appeared in the tunnels. The young man had become very close to Hogan and his men, having worked with them before, and especially LeBeau as both were French. In fact, LeBeau had developed a protectiveness toward the young man. Hogan had been informed by Dubois that the young man could be impulsive, and needed to learn to reign in his impetuosity. Hogan was not sure the young man was right for this mission after learning this, but he knew the area better than anybody else. Based on that news, Hogan relented and accepted Benoit's help although with reservations.

The night of the mission after evening roll call, Hogan and his entire core unit, met Benoit about a mile from camp. Traveling in the woods, the team slowly made their way to the bridge without running into any patrols. Reaching their destination, the men concealed themselves behind a thick clump of bushes. Hogan looked through a pair of binoculars, watching the lone guard patrolling back and forth. He also checked around and below the bridge as a precaution.

"Still only one guard, Colonel?" Kinch asked keeping his voice low.

"That's all, Kinch. Just the one lone guard," Hogan explained still watching the guard for a few more minutes. "There's nobody else near the bridge." He lowered the binoculars. "We'll use that area at the far end to get beneath the bridge and set the explosives. Be sure to set the timers for five minutes."

With Kinch and Benoit keeping watch for any unwanted visitors, the others set the explosives beneath the bridge along the supports, and the timers for five minutes. Finished, the men quietly left the area and made their way until they reached their original hiding place.

"Colonel, do you think this one time we can stay and watch the fireworks?" whispered Carter. "I mean…"

"I know what you mean, Carter," Hogan replied. As a rule he did not like to hang around to watch the results of their sabotage attempts. Yet this time he let Carter's puppy-dog eyes get to him. "Just this one time, Carter. But after this, don't ever ask me that question again. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Carter replied excitedly. "Thanks a lot." He settled down beside Newkirk and Kinch on one side of Hogan, with LeBeau and Benoit on the other side. They continued watching the lone guard walk back and forth.

Hogan checked his watch after a few minutes. "Get ready to say goodbye, gentlemen. In exactly one minute the Schermerhorn Bridge will cease to exist."

"Mon Dieu!" Benoit suddenly cried out. Hogan and the others looked at him, puzzled.

"What is it?" Hogan asked in a low voice. He looked in the direction Benoit was pointing and his jaw dropped and eyes widened. There, walking towards the guard on the bridge, was a young woman, a very pregnant young woman. "What is she doing there?" Hogan asked nobody. "There's not suppose to be civilians out after curfew." The guard smiled at the woman and kissed her on the cheek. She handed him a paper bag, and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth before she turned and began walking away.

"Gov'nor…?" Newkirk sounded panicked.

Hogan checked his watch again. "There's less than a minute," he explained. "She'll never make it in time." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Benoit suddenly jump to his feet.

"I will save her, Colonel Hogan," the Frenchman exclaimed dashing forward before anybody could stop him.

"Claude, no!" Hogan called out. "There's no time!" But apparently the young man either did not hear him, or decided to ignore him.

"I will stop him, Colonel," LeBeau stated starting to get to his feet, but Hogan grabbed him and tightly held him. Seconds later, a loud explosion shattered the night air, and they all hit the ground as bits of concrete and steel fell all around them. Only when things quieted down did the men slowly get to their feet, and make their way from their hiding place toward the wreckage. They stumbled at once on the body of Benoit who lay on his back, sightless eyes staring up at the sky. There was a large piece of shrapnel embedded in his chest, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth, and a huge chunk of concrete over his legs. Kinch, Carter and Newkirk were overwhelmed; LeBeau, heartbroken and angry, turned away unable to look. Hogan looked as if he were in shock from the sight. Newkirk, glancing around, suddenly pointed out a woman's blood-smeared arm and hand visible from beneath a huge chunk of concrete nearby. LeBeau dropped to his knees and lost the contents of his stomach. Newkirk quickly knelt beside the diminutive Frenchman to offer whatever aid he could. Carter wiped away the tears rolling down his cheeks. Hogan remained in a daze. He didn't even feel Kinch's hand on his arm.

"Colonel, we have to get out of here," Kinch began gently. "Patrols will be here any time now. Colonel?" Hogan didn't seem to pay attention. His eyes remained on the body of the young Frenchman. Kinch gently shook Hogan's arm. "Colonel? Did you understand me? We have to go. Now."

Hogan looked at Kinch as if seeing him for the first time. "Right." He looked at Newkirk and LeBeau who was still on his knees. "Is LeBeau all right, Newkirk?" he asked in a strained voice.

"He will be, sir," The Englander replied looking up as he and Carter helped LeBeau to his shaky feet.

"We need to get out of here and back to camp now," Hogan said hoarsely. He had no idea how he was going to break the news to Dubois. Frankly, he didn't want to even think about it.

Carter looked at his commanding officer sadly, tears running down his face. "Colonel, what about Claude? We can't leave him here. Not like this."

"I know," Hogan replied in a dazed voice. "But it would take time to move that block of concrete. Time we don't have. Now let's go." He hated leaving the young man's body for the Germans to find, but he had no choice.

The men made the trek back to Stalag 13 in silence fortunately without attracting any patrols. They reached the tunnels without alerting any of the guards on duty, and changed back into their Allied uniforms quietly. Afterward, LeBeau collapsed on a bench, buried his face in his hands, and wept unashamedly. To him, the death of Benoit was like losing a son. Newkirk sat beside him and placed a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"It's okay, little mate. Let it all out. We're all here for you."

LeBeau raised his tear-streaked face and glared at the Englander with eyes blazing. _"Get your hands off of me! Don't touch me!" _Newkirk's eyes widened in surprise at the Frenchman's outburst being directed at him.

The Frenchman's glare then landed on Hogan. "_This is all your fault! You are the reason Claude is dead! And that poor woman! She was pregnant and you let her die! Murderer!"_

Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk all looked at Hogan's face and saw total anguish and shock as if he couldn't believe one of his own men would speak to him that way.

"C'mon, LeBeau," Carter interjected. "You know it wasn't Colonel Hogan's fault. Claude was gone before anybody could stop him."

"_You are just as much to blame!" _LeBeau focused on Carter now. _"You and your stupid explosives. I wish you had never come here!"_

Hogan observed the shattered expression on the young Sergeant's face and his lower lip tremble. "LeBeau, don't blame Carter. If you need to blame someone, blame me instead."

"Murderer!" LeBeau screamed at Hogan then ran from the changing room. Newkirk started after him but was stopped by Hogan.

"Let him be for now," the Colonel replied.

After the Frenchman had left, Carter's grief overcame him, and he sat down on the bench with tears running down his face. Newkirk sat beside him and rubbed his back gently. "Don't take what Louie says seriously, Andrew. He's angry is all." He looked up into Hogan's anguished face. "That goes for you too, Gov'nor. Louie didn't mean what he said to you. Once he calms down he'll be right as rain again."

Hogan exhaled deeply. He rubbed his forehead as a headache was beginning. "I'm not so sure he's wrong," he explained before turning and leaving the room. He stormed to the ladder leading up to the barracks and climbed up into the common room. Once he was there, he gave 'the look' to anybody who spoke to him and went into his room, slamming the door behind him.

_**(End of Flashback)**_

Hogan opened his eyes and felt moisture on his cheeks. Wiping them, he looked at his fingers and noticed they were wet, and realized they were tears. He hadn't realized he'd been crying the entire time. Wiping his face again, Hogan decided he would stay in the empty barracks until he regained his composure before returning to his own barracks.

* * *

(1) The character of Maurice Dubois appears in the episodes: A Russian is Coming; Is General Hammerschlag Burning and Nights in Shining Armor, all Season 3. It was never revealed if he had any family so for purposes of this story, I gave him a nephew.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

In barracks ten, Hogan got to his feet and brushed off his pants. He had been in the hut for nearly an hour, and suspected by now his men were probably wondering what had become of him. He wearily walked to the table and collapsed on the bench, elbows on the table, head buried in his hands.

Hogan raised his head, let his arms fall on the table and sighed. This past week marked six months since the bridge had been destroyed, but it was the two deaths which hit him the hardest. He took in and let out a deep breath through his mouth. _I have to pull myself together._ _I can't let my men or Terry see any weakness in me. I have to stay strong for the men. _So engrossed in his own thoughts, Hogan jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he turned around and looked up to find Kinch standing behind him. The radioman stuffed both hands in his jacket pockets.

Hogan forced a grin to his face. "Kinch, next time you come up behind a person, say something, will you?"

Kinch chuckled. "Sorry, Colonel. I didn't mean to startle you. But I thought I might find you in here."

"Oh?" Hogan got to his feet and wrapped his arms around himself.

Kinch shrugged. "When I need to be completely alone, I sometimes come in here to think as well."

The Colonel chuckled. "Great minds think alike it seems."

"Klink and Burkhalter?"

"Yeah. Burkhalter's coming tomorrow to look at the books and Klink's having kittens. I wrangled an extra hour of electric light in the barracks, and an extra shower per man in exchange for LeBeau's culinary services."

Kinch grinned. "I can hear LeBeau yelling now."

Hogan became serious. "You needed to see me about something?"

"Nope. Just thought it was taking you too long to get back to the barracks, so I figured you went somewhere to be alone for a while. It wasn't too hard to guess where you went."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "Let's go. I have to break the bad news to LeBeau." The two men left the barracks and headed in the direction of barracks two.

* * *

Klink was pacing back and forth in his office with hands clasped behind his back. He was thinking about his Senior POW officer. The look he had seen in Hogan's eyes today was the same look he recalled seeing six months ago. And since the prisoners recently received mail from home, he was guessing the American's mother had perhaps taken a turn for the worse? It certainly would explain a lot about Hogan's mood the past week. Not too long after the man had left his office, the Kommandant considered ordering Wilkerson again to talk with the American officer. But Klink believed that would be a waste of time.

The Kommandant walked to the window, opened it, and glanced out at the compound crossing his arms. He spotted the man in question walking with Sergeant Kinchloe towards their barracks. Klink leaned against the window frame and continued watching the two men, especially Hogan. _Hogan's going through what Wilkerson told me he was, _Klink thought to himself sadly. _I remember what it's like to have a sick parent and being unable to be with them._ Figuring he was letting his imagination about the Senior POW officer run away from him, the Kommandant closed and locked his windows, and sat back down behind his desk. He put all thoughts of Hogan out of his mind as he had more important things to worry about with General Burkhalter's impending visit weighing on his mind.

* * *

Followed by Kinch, Hogan entered the hut finding LeBeau, Carter, Terry and Newkirk seated at the table. Terry was watching Carter and LeBeau play gin rummy with the Englander.

"Gin," Newkirk smirked laying down his cards.

LeBeau mumbled obscenities in French as he and Carter threw down their cards in disgust.

"Boy, that's three in a row," Carter grumbled. "How lucky can a guy be?"

Newkirk chuckled while gathering up the cards and reshuffling them. "It's not luck, Andrew," he teased his best friend. "You're a lousy gin player is all." He looked up at the radioman. "Care to sit in Kinch?"

"No thanks," Kinch grinned.

"Gov'nor?"

Hogan waved his hands. "Not me. I'm not a glutton for punishment." He looked at his godson. "How come you're not playing, Terry?"

Carpenter looked up and smirked. "I'm not a great gin rummy player. Besides, I'm not a glutton for punishment either." Terry took a drink of lukewarm coffee and grimaced. He didn't think if he would ever get accustomed to the taste.

A lopsided grin appeared on Hogan's face. "LeBeau, Burkhalter is coming here tomorrow. I've arranged for you to cook dinner for him and Klink."

LeBeau frowned. "Do I have to, mon Colonel? Have a heart."

"You do. I managed to get an extra shower per man, and an extra hour of electricity. Don't let it be in vain. Besides, I'll be there. Any idea what you might serve?"

The Frenchman exhaled then smirked deviously. "Not yet. When I do it will be a surprise."

Hogan figured he didn't want to hear any more. "I'll be in my quarters. I have work to do," he told the others. The Colonel walked away and entered the smaller room. Alone, Hogan walked to his window and opened it. He leaned against the window frame with arms folded staring out into the compound, a morose expression on his face.

But the activity in the compound isn't what greeted his eyes. It was the wreckage of the Schermerhorn Bridge; the body of Claude Benoit, and what was left of the pregnant woman crushed by a huge slab of concrete. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they were met again by the ruins of the bridge and the two bodies. But this time the eyes of Benoit; those sightless eyes full of judgment bored into his soul. Oddly, the eyes of the woman whose face he never viewed, were full of sorrow and anger.

Hogan quickly closed the window, turned away, and sat down at his desk burying his head in his hands. It suddenly dawned on him why he kept seeing those eyes. He was being punished by the dead. The woman was punishing him for the death of her unborn child; and Benoit was punishing him for failing to save the woman and for not stopping him from dying. Both appeared to him in his mind pointing at him crying out 'Murderer!' Hogan raised his head. He believed he was becoming paranoid. Probably from the fatigue. He had to stop thinking these things or the guilt was going to eat him up alive. He took in and let out a deep breath through his mouth. If he got a good night's sleep, he was positive these feelings and thoughts would go away.

But to get a good night's sleep he would need help. He thought about taking one of the sleeping pills he kept in his quarters they used on the Germans, but the effects only lasted an hour or two at the most. He needed at least eight to ten hours of sleep. And he knew exactly who could help him. He opened the door and walked into the common room and headed straight for the door.

"Going somewhere, Colonel?" asked Kinch looking up from his game of solitaire.

"I forgot something," Hogan lied. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I promise."

* * *

Joe Wilson was sitting alone in the infirmary looking over the contents of a file. As there were no patients now in the infirmary, the camp medic had time to review and update his files. He had been reading for the past two hours, and his eyes were tired. He needed a break, so he shoved the folder away from him and got up from his desk. He walked to the stove, grabbed a coffee cup from a nearby table, then the coffee pot, and poured himself a full cup of hot coffee.

As he poured, he heard the door open and close. Setting the pot back down he took a drink before looking up, and was surprised to find his commanding officer approaching. He quickly felt his own forehead with the back of his free hand.

"Not feeling good, Joe?" Hogan asked, worried.

"Just checking if I have a fever or something," Wilson joked. "You coming to see me? I must be sick or dreaming."

"Very funny," Hogan wrapped his arms around himself.

"Want some coffee, Colonel?"

"No thanks. But there is something I want from you."

Seeing the serious look on Hogan's face, Wilson's eyebrows knitted together. "You feeling all right, Colonel? I mean, I understand six months ago this past week the incident at the bridge happened and you've been somewhat down the last few days." He noticed the shadows under the Colonel's eyes. "How have you been sleeping lately?"

"That's why I'm here. I need at least one good night's sleep, and the sleeping pills we have don't last long. I need something stronger so I can sleep throughout the night. I wondered if you can give me a few sleeping pills? I have to put up with Klink and Burkhalter tomorrow night." Hogan had no intention of telling Wilson he was starting to see things that weren't really there. Mainly because he truly believed it was due to being tired.

"No problem, Colonel. Have a seat and I'll be right back." Wilson put his coffee cup down on the table and walked towards the medicine cabinet while Hogan plopped down on a nearby cot to wait. The medic wasn't gone long and returned handing Hogan a small bottle holding about four pills. "Since I'm giving you stronger sleeping pills, I'm only giving you four because these can become habit-forming if used too often. One pill will knock you out for about eight hours. Take one tonight after roll call and you will get a good night's sleep which, from those shadows under your eyes, tells me you haven't gotten in at least a week."

Hogan got to his feet and put the bottle inside his inner jacket pocket. "Thanks, Joe," he said ignoring the comment. "By the way, don't say anything to the men. I don't want them worrying about me again."

Wilson crossed his arms. "They worry because they care. But don't worry. I won't say anything to the men unless you're not sleeping continues or gets worse." He looked Hogan up and down and his eyes narrowed. "You also look a bit thin. How's your appetite been during this past week?"

Hogan sighed. "So-so."

Wilson sighed, exasperated. "What's so-so mean?"

"Joe…"

"Don't Joe me, Colonel. If you don't want to tell me I'll ask LeBeau. I'm sure he can tell me more than so-so."

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Your bedside manner really needs work, Sergeant. And you still are a Sergeant I might add, but that can change. In case you've forgotten, my eagles still outrank your stripes."

"Sir, when somebody crosses the threshold of this infirmary I am in charge, meaning I outrank whoever that person is, even Colonels if I suspect they are not well or injured." Wilson's face softened. "I'm asking because I realize what that incident did to you emotionally, and I understand how remembering it six months later might affect you. I'm concerned about you not only as a medic but as your friend."

Hogan's face softened as well. "My appetite's been a bit off as well this past week. But I believe a good night's sleep will help improve my appetite. Now, any more questions, Sergeant? Or am I dismissed?" The corners of Hogan's mouth curled upward. Colonels had to have fun, too.

"No, you're dismissed, Colonel," Wilson looked at his commanding officer with an amused grin. He knew Hogan well enough to understand the officer was joking with him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Hogan saluted the medic with a lopsided grin on his face before turning and walking out of the infirmary. One outside the door, the good feeling he had a few minutes ago disappeared, and a frown replaced his grin. He quickly walked back towards barracks two.

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful for Hogan and his men. The Colonel stayed in his quarters claiming he had work to do, and could not be disturbed unless it was an emergency. He sat at his desk staring at the papers in front of him with disinterest. He couldn't make himself read them. With a sigh, he reached into his jacket and removed the bottle of sleeping pills, staring at it, wishing he could take one now and sleep for hours. But now was not the time. A knock on his door made him hurriedly put the bottle back in his pocket.

"Come in," he ordered pretending to be looking over the papers.

The door opened and Terry wandered in holding a cup of coffee. He closed the door, and handed the cup to the Colonel who accepted it gratefully. Hogan arched an eyebrow noticing his godson didn't have a cup. The younger man stood close by watching his godfather, thumbs hooked in his jacket pockets.

"Thanks. You aren't having any?" Hogan asked holding up the coffee cup.

"Can't get use to the taste. How can you drink that stuff? Can't you get London to airdrop some real coffee?"

Hogan chuckled. "I give London enough strange requests. Nylons, perfume, jewelry, chocolate, to name a few."

Terry's eyes widened. "I can guess the chocolate is for Schultz. But nylons, perfume and jewelry? Is there something you haven't been telling me, Rob?"

Hogan smirked. "Well, I have to give Hilda something in exchange for her help. She's not gonna give information or help out sometimes for nothing."

Terry shook his head as a chuckle was heard. "Who's Hilda?" His eyes suddenly widened. "You're not telling me it's Klink's secretary? She's beautiful."

Hogan chuckled. "She is. And she's a great kisser."

"You mean you and her are…involved?"

"Not in the way you think. We flirt, kiss, and once in a while other things which I'll tell you about when you're older. But nothing will ever come of it. Not with Hilda anyway."

Terry tilted his head and an amused grin appeared. "Is there anybody since you've been here? I mean, you must work with women in the underground. Is there uh, anybody serious?"

"Only one." Hogan said, a faraway look in his eyes. "Her name's Marie Louise Monet. But we know her as Tiger."

"Tiger? What's she like if you don't mind me asking?"

"She's beautiful, French, and an underground leader. We work together often. Sometimes when she's in town we get together to forget the war if only for a few hours. But during this war we cannot be exclusive if you get my meaning." He sighed sadly. "God, I miss her."

Terry's eyes narrowed. "Miss her? Did something happen to her? Is she…"

"No. No. She's fine. She's in France for awhile. Don't know when she'll be back."

"I don't believe it. Rob's in love. Will I get to meet this woman who has captured your heart?"

Hogan shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on whether you're still here when she comes back from France." He drained his coffee cup and sat it down on his desk. "But you didn't come in here to discuss my love-life. What's up?"

"LeBeau wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Good. I'm starved. What else?"

Terry shrugged. He had forgotten Hogan always read him like a book, and he wasn't sure how his godfather would react.

"There is something else but I'm not sure how you're gonna take the news."

Now Hogan was concerned. Had someone somehow found out Terry was his godson? Someone like a German for instance?

"What is it?"

Terry sensed Hogan thought his news was bad. "I know what you're thinking and it's nothing bad." Hogan's face relaxed. "I've come to a decision. When the time comes for you to send me and the men I came here with back to London, I would prefer to stay here and work with you."

Both of Hogan's eyebrows arched as his eyes widened. "Why would you want to stay here in this backwater sewer with the bad food and mice? Terry, I don't want that for you. You need to go back to London with the others. Besides, I promised your father I would send you back."

"Rob, I know you promised dad. But after seeing what you and your men do here, I believe I can do much more to help end this war by joining you. Dad would understand. I know he would."

Hogan rubbed his forehead as a headache was beginning. "Terry, on your first mission you and Kinch were caught by two Kraut guards, one of whom had a gun to your head. Or did you forget that incident?"

"No, I didn't forget it. And I never will. Rob, I mean no disrespect, but you can't protect me forever. I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm a Lieutenant in the Air Force and capable of making my own decisions. And I've decided I want to stay here and join Papa Bear's team. Just think, Rob, you and me fighting side-by-side. We'd make a hell-of-a team along with your men."

Hogan's face remained unreadable. Secretly, he had to admit keeping Terry in Stalag 13 would enable him to keep his word to the young man's father when he promised to keep him safe. But on the other hand, to keep him here would also make him a possible target of the Gestapo and one Major Hochstetter. Hogan also had to consider someone could find out their relationship. To him, the negatives outweighed the lone positive. His head pounded more. He let out a deep breath and looked at his godson.

"My answer is no. The risks of you staying here are too great. I will not have the Gestapo taking an interest in you, especially Major Hochstetter. If he somehow found out we're related, he would use you to get me to confess to being Papa Bear. I would be forced to choose between you and my men. And whether I confessed or not, he would still execute you, and do it in front of me. I cannot and will not endanger you or put you in that position. When I send the others back to London, you will be going with them. End of discussion." He then checked the time and got up from his desk.

Hogan understood the disappointment on his godson's face. He put an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Now, let's find out what LeBeau has prepared for dinner. All this talking has made me hungry."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Hogan and Terry entered the smaller room. All through dinner and roll call, he noticed his godson had been pretty quiet, and remained so now. He sensed the younger man was upset with him about his earlier decision.

"You're still angry with me, aren't you?" the Colonel asked.

"I'm not angry. I don't agree with your decision, but I understand your reasons. I do. It's just…."

"Just what?"

Terry faced his godfather looking him in the eye. There was a sad look in the younger man's eyes. "It's if and when I return to England, who knows if we'll ever see each other again. I mean, your job is much more dangerous than mine. All I have to worry about is having my plane shot at by Krauts."

Hogan felt a bit melancholy. He draped an arm around Carpenter's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Look, neither of us knows what will happen before this war ends. But I plan for us to get together when I get back to the states. Don't forget, we have a motorcycle to repair and a race to run. And I'm gonna hold you to that promise." He smiled when a faint smile appeared on the younger man's face.

"Terry, do me a favor, will you?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

Hogan picked up the pitcher on his footlocker and turned it upside down with a lopsided grin. "Could you fill this with cold water for me? I could use a glass of water. Also, can you bring me half a cup of coffee as well?"

"Sure." Terry took the pitcher from Hogan. "Be back in an instant." As soon as Terry left the room and the door closed, Hogan had to be quick. He reached inside his jacket and removed the bottle of sleeping pills. He shook one into his open palm, and swallowed it dry, returning the bottle to his pocket. Moments later, the door opened and Terry walked in holding the pitcher in one arm and the coffee cup in his hand. Hogan took the coffee cup and sat it on his desk, took the pitcher and poured himself a glass of cool water. He drained the glass in one gulp before sitting the glass on his footlocker beside the pitcher.

"Thanks a lot," Hogan replied picking up a paperback from his desk. "I think I'm gonna start this mystery novel I borrowed from Kinch. I've been wanting to read it for weeks. But you don't have to stay here." A bit sleepy, Hogan checked the time, and looked at his godson. "We still have half-an-hour before lights out. Why don't you go in the other room with the guys and enjoy yourself." He tried hiding a yawn with the back of his hand.

Terry smirked. "From the looks of things, I don't think you're gonna get very far in that mystery novel."

"Yeah, well…" Hogan turned and picked up his coffee cup. He made a face finding the coffee was not warm.

"I never said it was hot coffee," Carpenter joked seeing Hogan's expression.

"Yeah, well, coffee is coffee," Hogan quipped draining his cup. He sat it down on his desk and yawned again. He was going to fall asleep on his feet. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna change into my pajamas and enjoy my book. If I'm asleep before you come in, I'll see you in the morning." He spun Terry around, opened his door, and with a gentle shove, pushed him out the door and closed it. With his eyelids getting heavy, Hogan changed into his pajamas. He hung his jacket inside his closet, and his crush cap on a nail outside the closet. He climbed up on the top bunk, settled under the thin blanket, and opened the book. Hogan had only read the first few sentences before his heavy eyelids closed as the book fell from his hands.

Thirty minutes later, the door opened and Carpenter walked inside the room.

"Hey, Rob, you'll…" he began only to find Hogan sound asleep. With an amused grin, he reached up and gently picked up the book, placing it on the desk. He changed into his pajamas before turning off the light pitching the room into total darkness. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he maneuvered his way to the lower bunk. He looked up and studied Hogan's face, listening to his deep and even breathing. A slow smile appeared on his face. "Sleep well, Rob. You deserve it." He reached up pulling Hogan's blanket up tucking him in, then Terry lay down on the bottom bunk, and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

* * *

The following morning Schultz barged into barracks two letting the door hit the wall behind it.

"Raus! Raus! All prisoners outside for roll call! Mach Schnell!" He slapped the side of Newkirk's bunk startling the Englander awake causing him to jump. "Everybody up!"

"Blimey, Schultz," the Englander complained rubbing the crustiness from his eyes. "You're worse than a bleedin' rooster. And bigger than one too."

"Jolly joker," the rotund guard replied. "Make sure you are outside on time for roll call. Kommandant Klink is not in a very good mood this morning."

"Who cares?" asked LeBeau jumping down from his bunk, yawning.

Schultz smirked. "You would if you were the Kommandant. And if you were expecting General Burkhalter today."

This time it was LeBeau who smirked. "As I said. Who cares?"

"Another jolly joker!" Schultz complained. "You have no sympathy for Kommandant Klink."

"Why should we?" asked Newkirk leaning over the edge of his bunk. "The bleedin' Kommandant ain't got no sympathy for us, has he?"

Schultz looked at the Englander. "How can you say that? He treats his prisoners better than other Kommandants."

"If he cared about us prisoners, Schultz," Carter added, sitting up on the bunk beneath Newkirk's, causing the guard to look down at the younger man. "He'd open the front gates and let us leave and go home."

Schultz smiled at the thought. "Ja. If he released the prisoners, they could…" his face grew serious. "Carter! You will all stay right here!" He stared around the room. "Now get ready for roll call!" He stormed out the door slamming it shut behind him. The prisoners laughed as they started getting dressed.

The door to Hogan's quarters opened, and Carpenter walked out not attempting to hide a yawn. He closed the door.

"Where is mon Colonel?" the Frenchman asked, worried.

"He'll be out in a minute," Terry replied zipping up his leather jacket. No sooner had the words left his mouth when the door opened again, and out stepped Hogan zipping up his own jacket. He turned up the collar against the expected early morning chill. He noticed Terry, Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk all staring at him. His eyes widened, puzzled.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You must have gotten a good night's sleep last night, Gov'nor," Newkirk remarked with a grin. "You look well rested this morning."

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau smiled. "Even the shadows under your eyes are not so noticeable. It is so good to see."

"I guess that means I looked like a total wreck the rest of the time?"

All the men started talking at once. Hogan held up both hands quieting them. "I was teasing you guys." A smile appeared. He did feel refreshed for the first time in days, having slept through the night without the troubling dreams. Hogan checked the time. "Let's go, gentlemen. We don't want to keep our fearless and bald leader waiting." He opened the door of the hut and walked outside with the men following him. They all stood in two lines waiting as Schultz counted each prisoner finishing with Hogan.

The guard looked relieved finding all the prisoners were present for once. He turned around and saluted Klink who was striding towards him.

"Repoooooooooooooort!" the Kommandant bellowed.

"All prisoners present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant."

"Excellent, Schultz. Now prisoners, I bring you the latest news of the war of which you are no longer a part," Klink announced looking up and down the formation.

"Oh good," Hogan joked. "I love a good science fiction story."

"Hogaaaaannnn! The glorious victories of the illustrious Third Reich are not science fiction, and you will stop referring to them as that! Do I make myself clear?" Klink turned a harsh glare on Schultz who had been chuckling. The guard swallowed hard and bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing again.

"Yes, sir." Hogan was not in the mood to hear a longwinded speech by Klink on the exaggerated and fabricated successes of the Third Reich. "Are you surrendering, sir?"

Klink stomped his foot in annoyance. "Hogan, you will cease making wisecracks this instant. We are not surrendering."

"You're considering surrendering?"

"No."

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we've eliminated science fiction and surrendering. So I can't understand what you have left to tell us that's so important, Kommandant."

Klink shook his fist. "Hrmph! Just for _that_, I _won't_ tell you. Dissss-missssed!" He turned and stormed away when he stopped and turned. "One minute, Hogan."

Hogan, who had been nearing the barracks door to go inside, rolled his eyes and turned around, facing Klink. "You wanted me, Kommandant?"

"Yes. I wanted to remind you of General Burkhalter's arrival today, and I expect LeBeau to prepare a delicious meal for him, and for you to attend." He came close, and wagged a finger in the American's face. "And I will hold you responsible if that little cockroach tries anything. Do I make myself clear?"

"LeBeau won't try anything, you have my word."

"Good!"

Hogan smirked. "But can I try something?"

"I'm warning you. You do anything, and I mean anything, to embarrass me in front of the General at dinner, I'll toss you in the cooler and keep you there until the war ends."

Hogan gave his best innocent look. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior tonight, Kommandant."

"Make sure you are," Klink hissed. He turned and walked away leaving Hogan, Terry, Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk watching his receding back.

"Maybe," Hogan added when Klink was out of hearing range.

Schultz approached from the side and leaned close to the American officer. He looked worried.

"Colonel Hogan, you aren't going to do something at dinner to get Kommandant Klink in trouble with the General, are you?" he asked in a low voice.

Hogan looked at the guard with a mischievous expression. "I promise if I do something Klink won't like, you'll be the first to know."

Schultz squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. "I know noth-ing. Noth-ing." He walked away.

With a chuckle, Hogan entered the barracks with the others behind him; they, too, were chuckling. It was good seeing their commanding officer back to his old self again.

"You gave it to 'im, good, Gov'nor. Right in the old monocle."

"You sure did, boy, uh Colonel."

"Oui," LeBeau chimed in trying an apron around his waist ready to prepare breakfast. "It was a thing of beauty to see, mon Colonel."

"Welcome back, Colonel," Kinch added.

Hogan blushed. "You guys are gonna give me a swelled head with all this praise. And I don't even have a ring so you can kneel in front of me and kiss it." The corners of his mouth curled upward into a grin. The men all laughed except Carter.

"I don't get it," Carter said looking confused.

"I'll explain it to you later, Carter," Hogan said draping an arm around the younger man's shoulders. Carter look up at him with that innocent look of his.

After breakfast, the rest of the day was uneventful for the prisoners. Even the arrival of General Burkhalter showed nothing interesting. In fact, the only amusement for Hogan and his team was listening to Klink and his bootlicking of the General. But after dinner, Hogan, Klink, and Burkhalter were alone in the Kommandant's living room with a Snifter of French brandy and a cigar. It was during the following conversation that Hogan had to struggle to keep the good feeling he had enjoyed all day.

"Tell me, Klink," Burkhalter began with a smirk on his pudgy face. "I understand the Gestapo, namely our Major Hochstetter, is still chasing saboteurs concerning the destruction of the Schermerhorn Bridge."

Klink sighed. "That's true, Herr General. He has been here three or four times interrogating Colonel Hogan."

"Hogan?" Burkhalter's beady eyes shifted to the American who up to now had remained quiet. "Why is he interrogating Hogan?"

Klink was about to respond but Hogan beat him to it. "Major Hochstetter blames me for everything, General. Even blames me for things before I came here. But just between you and me, I think he has a crush on me."

Burkhalter burst out laughing while Hogan smirked. The General disliked the Gestapo and enjoyed making fun of them whenever possible.

"The men in the barracks are starting to notice and it's getting embarrassing. Do you think you could do something about the Major?"

"Hogaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" Klink hissed. "You will cease making crude remarks about Major Hochstetter."

Burkhalter puffed on his cigar. "Lighten up, Klink. Hogan was making a joke which obviously went over your head which doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Yes, Herr General." Klink forced nervous laughter out of his mouth.

Hogan rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head.

Burkhalter now became serious. "What pains me the most is that the young man was the son of a dear friend of mine. I was the young man's godfather and looking forward to his child being born."

Hearing the word 'godfather' made Hogan inwardly cringe. He started thinking of Terry. So absorbed in his thinking he didn't hear Burkhalter.

"Hogan!" The General bellowed. Hogan snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the General.

"I'm sorry, sir. Were you speaking to me?"

"Yes. I asked what you thought of someone who would sabotage something knowing there was a pregnant woman on the premises?"

Hogan took in and let out a deep breath. "I would think if whoever it was knew there was a pregnant woman on the premises, he or she would have tried to save her. Perhaps they didn't know she was there. After all, why would a civilian be out after curfew?"

"I believe they did and didn't care," Burkhalter fumed taking a drink of brandy ignoring the posed question. "That person is a murderer in my opinion. Klink, you will do everything in your power to aid Major Hochstetter with his investigation if he should ask. I want this child killer caught and hung. Understood?"

Klink swallowed hard. "Yes, Herr General."

Hogan swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He downed the rest of his brandy and checked the time. His guilt began rising again. "It's getting late, gentlemen," he announced getting to his feet. The room was closing in on him and he was beginning to suffocate. "I think I will call it a night and head back to my barracks." He started walking away.

"Why are you leaving us so soon, Hogan?" Burkhalter asked. Hogan turned and saw the General staring at him. "Were you upset by something we were discussing perhaps?"

A faint smile appeared although forced. "No, sir. I admit it disturbs me that a young mother-to-be was killed in this explosion. But I'm leaving because I haven't been well of late, and our medic will have my head if I overdo it. So, goodnight Kommandant. General." He turned not waiting for a reply and left the room and Klink's quarters.

Once outside, Hogan allowed himself to breathe again. With hands on his narrow hips, he leaned his head back and took in and let out a deep breath through his mouth. _Why did Burkhalter have to mention child killer? Why? Everything was fine until he did that._ And to make matters worse, the young guard who died was the son of a close friend of the General's. To Hogan, that knowledge made things worse. He knew Burkhalter would keep abreast of the investigation by the Gestapo wanting justice for his friend's son, daughter-in-law, and unborn child. His head started to pound as he stepped off the steps and walked towards his barracks. He touched the area on his jacket and felt the hidden bottle. As soon as he was in his quarters, he would take another sleeping pill so he could sleep and forget.

He opened the door of the barracks and heard the gentle snoring of the men. Use to maneuvering in the dark, it took a few seconds for Hogan's eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness before he made his way to his quarters. Going inside, he made out the sleeping form of his godson on the lower bunk. He undressed, and removed the bottle of pills from inside his jacket and swallowed one dry before putting the bottle back.

"Rob?" asked a sleepy voice. Hogan turned and looked over his shoulder to see Terry's head up off the bed looking at him.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Hogan replied. He was not in the mood for twenty questions.

"Don't worry about it. Headache again?"

"Huh?"

"I watched you take a pill. Headache bothering you again?"

"Klink and Burkhalter can give you one, believe me," Hogan joked. "I couldn't wait to get out of there. I'm sure it'll be gone by morning. It's already starting to lessen," he lied.

"Good. 'Night, Rob." Terry laid his head back down on the thin pillow.

"Goodnight," Hogan replied climbing up on the upper bunk and lay down on the mattress. He started feeling the effects of the sleeping pill as his eyes closed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The next two weeks were normal, or as close to normal for Hogan and his men. There were missions from London consisting of recon, espionage, and helping escaped prisoners and downed flyers get out of Germany. It was also during this time Hogan not only got to see what Toller, Dray, and Terry could do, but how they handled themselves during the occasional dangers certain jobs involved. In addition, Hogan discovered after using the rest of his sleeping pills and getting several nights of uninterrupted sleep, he had a better grip on his emotions. He also discovered his sleep pattern showed signs of returning to normal. This led him to believe he had finally rid himself of the persistent sadness, grief, and dreams which had plagued him for weeks. Even his appetite improved much to LeBeau's delight.

It was at the beginning of the fifth week Hogan had reached a tentative decision about Terry and the others. But before he made up his mind definitely, he wanted to speak with his second-in-command privately and get his input. So after breakfast, Hogan and Kinch walked inside Hogan's quarters with Kinch closing the door.

"Sit down, Kinch. We need to have a talk." Hogan pulled the chair away from his desk, turned it around and straddled it, arms resting on its back. He waited for Kinch to sit on the lower bunk. The two men faced each other.

"What do you want to talk about, Colonel?"

"I want your honest opinion on Sergeants Dray and Segal. Corporal Toller. And Lieutenant Carpenter. I need to make a decision whether or not to add them to our unit, or send them all back to London."

Kinch crossed his legs and folded his arms. "Who do you want to start with first?"

"Tell me how Sergeant Segal is working out."

One by one, Kinch gave his opinions and thoughts on each man except for Carpenter, and Hogan quietly listened. When he was finished, Hogan appeared to think about what Kinch had told him.

"I agree with you about Toller, Dray, and Segal. They each have good qualities, they're quick learners, and shown they can handle themselves well in a crises situation. They would be good additions." He sighed wearily. "Now tell me why you held off on including Terry when giving me your opinions?"

Kinch licked his dry lips. "Permission to speak openly, sir?" He saw Hogan nod. "Colonel, I know you enjoy having your godson here with you because he's the closest to having an actual member of your own family here with you. And believe me when I say I mean no disrespect. But having Lieutenant Carpenter here is dangerous; dangerous for him and dangerous for you."

"Explain." Hogan knew what Kinch was going to say, but wanted to hear it anyway.

"Sir, we know better than anybody in this camp it's tough keeping secrets. There's always the possibility the wrong person might overhear something they shouldn't. Possibly even the Krauts. And then there's Major Hochstetter. If he should find out about the Lieutenant, he'd use him to get to you which would put you in an awful position of having to choose. Colonel, you, me, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk, we all signed up so to speak for this operation. And you've got enough on your plate with manipulating Klink, conning the Germans, keeping us safe from harm, and coming up with ideas to carry out our missions. Do you really want to add worrying about Lieutenant Carpenter to that burden as well? That's not to say you couldn't handle it, sir, but it's an added pressure on your shoulders I personally feel you don't need."

"Wow," was all Hogan uttered with raised eyebrows.

"If I overstepped my bounds, sir, I apologize. But you did ask for my opinion."

Hogan shook his head as a grin appeared. "You didn't. But you didn't tell me anything I didn't tell myself. You simply confirmed what I had already told myself."

Kinch stared at his commanding officer for a few minutes. "You already made the decision to send your godson back to London, haven't you?" The look on Hogan's face told Kinch he had guessed correctly. "Have you told him yet?"

"A few weeks ago when he told me he wanted to stay and work with us. I said no then, especially after what happened at the ball-bearing plant. But you were right when you said I enjoyed having him here with me because I did. And you were also right when you said the longer he's here makes it dangerous for both him and us." Hogan got to his feet and wrapped his arms around himself while he walked over to and sat on the edge of his desk. "I guess I tried telling myself it was safer keeping him here where I can keep an eye on him. If we hadn't gotten overwhelmed with missions from London the last few weeks, he would have already been in London." He sighed a bit unhappily. "I'll let him know he'll be on his way to England in the next few days."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, Kinch. Thanks."

There was a knock on the door interrupting them.

"Come in," Hogan ordered.

Both men looked as the door opened, and in walked Sergeant Segal carrying a folded sheet of paper in his hand apparently torn from a clipboard. He handed it to the Colonel.

"Message from London, sir," Segal reported. "It seemed important."

"Thanks, Sergeant," Hogan replied unfolding the paper. "You're doing a good job. I'm very pleased with the reports I'm getting. Keep up the good work."

Segal smiled. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He paused before continuing. "Do you want to send a reply, Colonel?"

Hogan quickly read the message and exhaled deeply. "Tell London message received and acknowledged."

"Yes, sir." Segal turned and left the room to return to the radio room.

Kinch waited until the door closed. "Another mission, Colonel?"

"Yeah, and it's a big one. Kinch, find Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau."

"Right away, Colonel." Kinch started towards the door. As he gripped the doorknob, he paused and looked back when Hogan called out to him.

"Have Lieutenant Carpenter, Corporal Toller, and Sergeant Dray join us as well. We're gonna need extra people for this one."

Kinch let go of the doorknob and turned to face his commanding officer, eyebrows knitted together. "Lieutenant Carpenter, Colonel?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, sir," Kinch said reluctantly. He left the room to carry out his assigned task.

Alone now, Hogan, still holding the folded message in his hand, wrapped his arms around himself and began to pace. _"Am I making a mistake including Terry in this mission?" _he asked himself. _"Or am I including him just to spend more time with him before I send him back to London?"_ Hogan struggled internally with his questions without really arriving at an answer. He continued pacing only to stop when the door opened and he saw Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau walk in with Carter closing the door.

"Kinch said you wanted to see us, Gov'nor?"

"Sit down fellas," Hogan ordered. "We're waiting for Kinch to come back with Toller, Dray and Lieutenant Carpenter, then we can begin."

Newkirk and Carter sat on the lower bunk and LeBeau, his arms crossed, sat on the edge of Hogan's footlocker waiting for the others.

About twenty minutes later, Hogan was about to send Newkirk and LeBeau out to search for the four men when the door opened and in walked the men in question. Kinch shrugged with an apologetic look on his face as he closed the door.

"Where have you been mate?" asked Newkirk looking up at Kinch. "The Gov'nor was about to send out a search party looking for you chaps."

"Oui," LeBeau added with a smirk. "He thought the four of you had escaped."

"What?" asked Terry with an amused grin. "And ruin Klink's perfect record?"

"All right. All right," Hogan interrupted with his command look. "Can the small talk, everybody." He looked at Kinch. "What took so long, Kinch? This is a prison camp. There's only so many places one can go."

"Sorry, Colonel," Kinch said leaning against one of the posts holding up the upper bunk, crossing his legs at the ankles with hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. "I had to go to several barracks looking for them and kept missing them until I found them in barracks twelve playing poker with Sergeant Woodruff."

"What? And I wasn't invited?" asked Newkirk feigning hurt feelings. "He cheats y'know."

LeBeau arched an eyebrow and chuckled while looking knowingly at his British friend. "Oh really?"

"Calm down, everybody. We've got work to do," Hogan ordered a little more harshly than he planned; but it got everybody's attention. Seeing the men all looking expectantly at him, he opened the paper Segal handed him a few minutes ago. "This message came in from London and it's a big job. That's why I asked for Lieutenant Carpenter, Corporal Toller, and Sergeant Dray to join us. We're gonna need the extra help on this one."

"What is it, Colonel?" asked LeBeau.

"The Krauts have built a synthetic oil plant three miles west of Hammelburg and they just began operation about a week ago. London wants us to destroy the plant. Could set the Krauts back about six months."

"Couldn't London send bombers instead, Colonel?" asked Toller, nervously tapping his foot.

"They tried," Hogan explained. "It's too well camouflaged and the bombers can't find the plant. So, they want us to handle it instead."

"We gonna blow it up, Colonel?" asked an excited Carter with a big grin on his face and wide eyes.

"Yes, Carter. And we're gonna need explosives. Can you handle it?"

"Sure, Colonel," the young Sergeant explained. He glanced at Sergeant Toller. "If Mike will help me."

Toller glanced at Carter then back at Hogan. "Be glad to, sir. How soon do you need them?"

Hogan sighed. "I'll let you know after I work out a few other details."

"Don't worry, sir," Toller smiled. "Carter and I will make sure to have a nice batch of noisemakers for you."

Hogan smiled at Toller mimicking Carter's use of words while Newkirk simply rolled his eyes. "Good. Kinch, contact Damien in the underground. Tell him I need to see him tonight at 2130 hours, usual place."

"Yes, sir," Kinch answered.

"What do you need to see this Damien about, Colonel, if I may ask?" Terry asked.

"You can ask," Hogan replied. "I want him and a few of his men to scout that plant for us. This way we'll know what we're up against when we go there." He paused. "Does that answer your question, Lieutenant?" he added with an unreadable expression on his face. The Lieutenant nodded his head.

"Good. Okay everybody, that's all for now." As the men started leaving, Hogan's voice stopped them. "Lieutenant, I need you to stay for a few minutes. We need to have a talk."

"Yes, sir," Carpenter answered wondering if Hogan was going to chastise him for asking a question he shouldn't have asked. Once the door closed and the men were alone, Hogan gestured for his godson to sit down on the lower bunk. He himself straddled the chair he had been sitting in earlier.

"I'm sorry if it was wrong to ask that question about Damien, Rob. It's none of my business as to why you want to see him."

"I'm not angry about that, Terry. I want to discuss your presence here in Stalag 13. You and the men you came with."

"What about us?"

Hogan let out a deep breath. He understood this was going to be the most difficult thing he ever did since he'd known the younger man.

"Terry, I told you a few weeks ago I was sending you to London and why. Since that time I began changing my mind because I enjoyed having you here. And when I told you originally I was sending you back I had planned to do it in a few days but we became overwhelmed with missions from London. And I must tell you, I was very impressed with how you handled yourself after what happened during that first mission."

Terry smiled faintly. "Thanks, Rob." Then his smile faded. "But you're still sending me to London, aren't you?"

"Yes. I won't lie to you. As much as I like having you with me, the threat of somebody finding out our connection is too great. I was going to have London send a sub to pick you up at a pre-arranged rendezvous place. But we got this mission before I could. But once this mission is completed, I will be contacting London and making arrangements for that sub."

"The others I came here with aren't going with me, are they?"

"No. They will become members of the operation. Also, none of them are my godson."

Terry didn't say anything; he simply nodded he understood. And he truly did understand his presence in camp was endangering not only himself, but his godfather and the others. But mainly it was Robert Hogan. He thought about the position Hogan would be in if the Gestapo found out about their relationship. And the thought of putting the man he admired and loved in the inevitable position of having to choose between his men and him. So, he would go to London after helping complete this mission. A sad smile crossed his face.

"I'll go but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"When I'm on my way to the rendezvous place, you accompany me so we can spend time together before we part company."

Hogan looked down, chuckled, and shook his head before looking up again. "I think it can be arranged. That way I can make sure your butt gets on that sub."

Terry chuckled. "Deal. I'm gonna miss you, Rob. It's been good seeing you again and getting to spend this time with you. And for what it's worth, I love you and always will. Stay safe. Remember, we have a motorcycle race to run back home."

Hogan felt himself blush. "It was love at first sight from the moment I first held you in my arms after you were born. And I'll do my best to come home. I promise." He sighed and got to his feet. "Let's go join the others before we both end up crying like little kids. I mean, that might be construed as conduct unbecoming an officer, " he joked. Then with a smile on his face, Hogan grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

The two men approached the stove and Hogan poured each of them a cup of coffee. While Carpenter sat down, Hogan leaned over LeBeau's shoulder inhaling the aroma of what the Frenchman was preparing for lunch. "Smells delicious, LeBeau," he said with his mouth already watering.

"Merci, mon Colonel. Lunch should be ready in a few minutes. I'm trying out a new recipe."

"Better not let ole Schultzie hear you say that," Newkirk teased. "There won't be anything left for us but the ruddy pot."

"I am not concerned," LeBeau replied concentrating on what he was doing. "I made enough just in case."

Carter, who had been dealing out cards to himself and Newkirk in a game of gin rummy, chuckled childishly. "With Schultz there is no such thing as just enough."

"You're right there, mate. All you gotta do is look at 'im." Newkirk picked up his cards and scratched his chin. He glanced at Carter with narrowed, wary eyes.

Hogan was about to sit down when the lower bunk rattled upward and the ladder dropped. Kinch's head emerged seconds later. He stepped over the bed frame and stopped long enough to strike the hidden mechanism allowing the ladder to rise and lower bunk to drop over the opening. He approached his commanding officer.

"I spoke with Damien. He'll be at the usual place at 2130 hours tonight as you requested."

"Good. I want you and Carter to meet him and bring him here."

"Sure thing, Colonel," said Kinch.

LeBeau then stepped between Hogan and Kinch with a big smile on his face. "Mes amis, lunch is served."

Newkirk smirked. "I've got only one thing to say about that, LeBeau," he commented not looking at the Frenchman.

"What's that?" asked LeBeau.

"Gin." An amused grin crossed his face as the Englander laid his cards down in front of Carter.

Hogan, LeBeau, Kinch, and Terry all burst out laughing while Carter stared at his best friend's cards before throwing his own down in disgust.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The rest of the day remained uneventful for the men of barracks two. A few of the men relaxed inside by reading, writing letters to loved ones, or talking, while others enjoyed the warm sunshine. But things changed after night roll call. Hogan visited the changing room to give final orders to Kinch and Carter both dressed in their blacks; Carter had grease smeared on his face. The men stood beside the ladder leading up to the emergency tunnel exit disguised as a tree stump. Kinch and Carter checked their weapons under the watchful eyes of Hogan who always worried when his men left camp without him.

"Remember, don't delay when you meet up with Damien. Come straight back here. Ever since the rocket factory was destroyed, the Krauts have been on edge, so try and avoid any patrols. And above all be careful."

"Yes, dad," Kinch smirked.

Hogan crossed his arms across his chest. "Kinch, remind me to get you more time out of the tunnels. You're beginning to lose your mind." A faint smile appeared. "Good luck." As they climbed up the ladder, all Hogan could do was wait; wait and worry.

* * *

Both Carter and Kinch left the emergency tunnel exit managing to avoid being spotted by the roaming search light of the guard tower. Once above ground, the two men made their way into the woods and to the appointed place where they were to meet Damien.

"He's not here," Carter whispered looking around, his pistol in his hand. He didn't like being out in the open this way.

Kinch, also armed, checked the time. "We're a few minutes early is all. He'll be here."

True to Kinch's words, five minutes later they heard a sound like a bird call. Kinch responded with his own whistling call. Both men spotted a figure in a dark topcoat with a dark cap pulled down, emerge from the bushes. He approached the two men.

"I'm Damien. You work with Papa Bear?" he asked looking back and forth between Carter and Kinch.

"Yes. I'm Kinchloe. This is Carter," Kinch replied shaking hands with Damien. The underground agent then shook Carter's.

"Hi," Carter said with a smile.

"Let's go. Papa Bear is waiting," Kinch explained.

* * *

Back at Stalag 13, Hogan paced back and forth in the common room while Terry, LeBeau and Newkirk watched him. Terry now saw for himself how his godfather worried when his men were outside the camp. But for Newkirk and LeBeau, they were use to their commanding officer's nervous pacing. Kinch and Carter had been gone about ninety minutes, and should have been back thirty minutes ago.

"Gov'nor, you're gonna wear a bloody hole in the floor if you don't stop."

"Oui, mon Colonel. They're only thirty minutes late. Try not to worry."

"Might they have run into a Kraut patrol?" asked Terry. Hogan stopped pacing and stared at the younger man.

"You're not helping, y'know," the Colonel replied. "I don't need that thought going through my mind right now."

"Sorry," Terry murmured letting his eyes fall on a spot on the table.

Suddenly the men's attention was drawn to the sound of the lower bunk rattling upward. Hogan, Newkirk and LeBeau hurried over in time to see Kinch emerge from below followed by Carter.

"You're late," Hogan said. "What happened out there?"

"We ran into a patrol on the way back," Kinch explained. "We had to stay hidden until they passed by where we were."

"Did they see you?"

"No, sir," Carter added stepping over the lower bed frame.

"Where's Damien?" asked Hogan glad nothing went wrong and seeing both his men were okay.

At that moment Damien's head appeared, and soon he stepped into the barracks. He shook hands with Hogan.

"Colonel," Damien said with a smile.

"Glad you could make it. Coffee?" The underground agent nodded at the Colonel.

LeBeau poured cups of coffee for everyone as they all sat down at the table. Damien took a drink of the warm liquid.

"We need you and your men to do something for us," Hogan began.

"Whatever you need, Colonel. You can count on us."

"We have orders to blow up the synthetic oil plant three miles west of Hammelburg. We need you and your people to scout it for us and get back to us as-soon-as possible."

Damien took a long drink of coffee. "From what I understand from my people, that plant is well guarded inside and out. Has been since the destruction of the converted rocket factory several weeks ago. Anything in particular you need?"

"All you can give us. Any weaknesses. How many guards assigned. Also, is there any other way to gain entry into the plant other than the main entrance. And we need a quick response."

"We will get you what you need, Colonel." Damien drained his coffee cup and got to his feet. He walked toward the still open tunnel entrance followed by Hogan, Kinch and Carter. "I'll be in touch." He and Hogan shook hands again.

"Thanks. Kinch, you and Carter escort Damien out through the emergency tunnel."

"Sure thing, Colonel," Kinch replied.

After the three men disappeared below, Hogan slapped the hidden mechanism and the lower bunk dropped over the tunnel opening.

* * *

Several hours later, Damien and six of his men, three dressed in Gestapo uniforms, drove their car along the road enroute to the plant. Damien stopped the car about half a mile from their destination, and he and three others got out. The car would continue the last half mile to the plant. Damien looked into the vehicle at Carl in the back seat dressed as a Gestapo Captain, Gustav as a Sergeant in the front passenger seat, and behind the wheel, Erik as a Corporal. "Be careful," Damien added. Then he and the others with him made their way through the woods until they came to a spot where they had a clear view of the synthetic plant without being seen. It was a single story building which was twice as long as tall. He sent two of the men with him to check out the back of the building.

Damien lifted a pair of binoculars and studied the front of the building. Five guards with machine guns patrolled the outside of the building. A guard shack with two guards would check the identification of anybody entering the plant.

"That place is guarded better than Berchtesgaden," one of the men commented to Damien. "What do we do?"

"We wait here until Carl, Gustav and Erik return." He saw the car pull up and the two guards in the shack react to the approaching vehicle.

"Halt!" one of the guards, a Sergeant, ordered holding out his arm, one palm facing the vehicle, the other gripping his rifle. His partner pointed his weapon at the car. Both guards stood in front of the car blocking its path. Three of the other guards outside the front of the building also stood with weapons pointed.

The two guards in the shack approached the stopped car. The driver, rolling down the window, handed several folded papers to the guard who stared at the three men. "I am Corporal Kurst and this is Sergeant Steffen. He gestured with his head towards the man in the back seat. "This is Captain Heinrich. We are from Berlin. We are here to check the security of this plant in light of the recent sabotage of the rocket factory."

"We had no notification of any visit by the Gestapo," the Sergeant holding the papers announced sharply.

Carl glared at the Sergeant with his cold steel blue eyes. "The Gestapo is not in the habit of announcing their visits, Sergeant. The Fuhrer thought it would be best to have a surprise inspection. Or perhaps you would rather explain your troubles to Major Hochstetter?" The guard swallowed hard indicating the man recognized the name as the same one as on the forged papers. Carl then turned his glare on the other guard beside him who looked scared to death and trying to keep it hidden from the other guards.

The Sergeant handed the papers back to Erik. "There is no need, Herr Captain. Your papers are in order," he stammered. "You and your men may pass." He turned to the other guards and motioned for them to lower their weapons and allow the vehicle to go ahead.

Damien continued to look through his binoculars. "They are being allowed to go ahead," he informed his partner. He heard a rustling noise in the bushes, and Damien and his partner drew their weapons, removing the safeties. Now was not the time for any unwanted visitors. They relaxed seeing the two men who had been sent to check out the back of the plant reappear.

"Any problems?" asked Damien.

"None at all," one of the men explained. "The guards on patrol didn't see us." Nodding, Damien resumed watching the plant.

Once the car stopped in front of the main entrance of the plant, Carl and the others got out and entered the building. Carl gave the guards inside a cold stare as he and his men counted five more guards. One of them, a young Sergeant, exchanged salutes with Carl.

"Welcome, Herr Captain. To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit by the Gestapo?"

Carl's face turned cold to cause the young Sergeant to wilt before his eyes. "This is not a social call, Sergeant. We are here on orders from the Fuhrer to inspect this plant for security considering the recent sabotage in Hammelburg."

"Yes…yes, sir, Herr Captain." The Sergeant took a deep breath. "May I have one of my men show you around the plant?"

"Nein. That will not be necessary. What is your name, young man?"

"Sergeant Getman, sir." Carl didn't respond. He just nodded his head. "I'll remember that. Now, we will look around on our own, Danke." Then with no further words, Carl and his men walked away. When out of earshot of the guards, he turned his head towards the others.

"We will accomplish more if we split up and look around."

"Jawohl, Herr Captain," the Sergeant and Corporal replied at the same time. The two men walked off in separate directions all the time under the watchful eyes of the Luftwaffe guards who kept their distance. They didn't want to get into trouble with the Gestapo or the maniacal Major Wolfgang Hochstetter.

Carl walked around the room observing everything. He checked every door he came to looking inside seeing nothing of any interest. So far there were no other guards other than the ones seen upon entering. Removing a small notebook and pen from inside his jacket, he made a rough sketch of the room for use later. Carl then found a closed door with another guard posted. That made a total of six guards. Suspecting there must be something of importance on the other side for a guard to be posted; he had to have a look inside the room. He approached the guard and smiled. "What is in here, Corporal?" he asked. The guard swallowed the lump in his throat as he saluted.

"Only the storage containers and the reactors for the plant, sir."

"I will take a look inside," Carl demanded. "You may accompany me if you wish, Corporal."

"Nein, Herr Captain. That will not be necessary." He grabbed the doorknob and opened the door allowing the officer to pass, and closed the door behind him, letting out a deep breath.

The first thing catching Carl's attention made him freeze and shiver. _Oh shit!_ he thought to himself. Along the wall was a bank of reactors. He knew the reactors were used for treating coal to get quantities of synthetic crude oil or syncrude as it was known. The reactors were half the height of the guard towers in Stalag 13, but the same width. Carl was familiar with the involved process of making the synthetic crude oil. There were a dozen drums marked 'Benzin' or gas, and a dozen more marked 'Ol' or oil. While the plant hadn't been operating long, it must have been working day and night to have produced this much synthetic oil and gasoline. He looked around, and not seeing anybody, Carl made a rough sketch of the drums and reactors to show Hogan later.

He also saw a door on the far side of the room away from the reactors and the drums. Walking over to the door and trying the doorknob he found it to be locked, and didn't dare try to pick the lock and open it for fear of tripping an alarm. He included it in his sketch of the room.

Seeing nothing else, Carl left the back room to find his other two men waiting for him. They nodded at him as he approached indicating they were ready to leave whenever he was. Sergeant Getman who had greeted them earlier, stood and waited. Carl stared at him coolly.

"We will inform Major Hochstetter that the security here is more than adequate, Sergeant. I am sure he will be pleased." Carl thought he noticed the tension leave Getman's face and his body relax.

"Danke, Herr Captain. Danke."

"We will take our leave and return back to headquarters." He and the Sergeant exchanged salutes. Then, Carl and his men walked out of the plant and back to their car. It was time to head back and pick up Damien and the others.

* * *

Hogan paced in the common room with Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk watching him. Kinch remained below monitoring the radio waiting for Damien's message. Carpenter sat at the table with his head resting on folded arms. A gentle snoring could be heard. He tried to think of the best way to handle destroying the synthetic oil plant. If Germany became independent and not have to rely on its Axis neighbors for oil, he knew Germany could drag the war on for years, maybe even win. And Hogan refused to allow that to happen. No, once Damien got back to him with the scouting report on the plant, he would come up with a plan to destroy the plant. And because they would be attacking at night, the guards might be a bit lax in their duty.

But what weighed on him most was believing what happened at the Schermerhorn Bridge would happen at the plant. Not only would he be taking his team with him, and it wouldn't be the first time he took them all with him. He knew they could handle anything blindfolded. But he was taking three others who were still considered newbies having been in camp less than two months. This would be the biggest job the newbies had been on since they became prisoners. Hogan understood everything had to be carefully coordinated after he reviewed the intelligence brought back by Damien and his men. He could not afford to second guess himself now as it would lead to disaster. But ever since the disaster at the bridge, Hogan had discovered a part of himself hesitant to let his men near explosives. Yet this was an important mission requiring explosives, and he had to trust and believe in his men to handle things and complete the task. The work they did came with and required many risks, but the Colonel had to consider every eventuality to stop a repeat of what happened six months ago.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he continued pacing; his other arm was wrapped around himself.

"Headache, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"I'm fine," Hogan replied not looking at the Frenchman. He opened his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. He began to wonder if he made the right decision taking Terry with them. When it came to his godson, was he thinking with his head or his heart? _I have to stop imagining something's gonna go wrong,_ he thought. Feeling the walls of the common room closing in on him, Hogan felt he had to leave the barracks so he could breathe. He turned around and headed toward the barracks door.

"Where are you going, Colonel?" asked Newkirk as the three men watched him leave.

"I need a bit of air. Have somebody come and get me if Damien contacts us." Hogan left the hut closing the door behind him.

"Gee, you think Colonel Hogan's okay?" asked Carter looking between Newkirk and LeBeau, concern in his eyes.

"Oui. The Colonel is fine, Andre. He is just worried as usual when we get an important mission like this."

"Sure he is, mate. The Gov'nor's just worried is all. This is a flippin' big assignment for us. And he's worried about the Lieutenant here. He's got a lot on his mind right now. That's all, Andrew. Nothing to worry about whatsoever."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, but you can blame Hurricane Sandy and mandatory evacuation Sunday afternoon. I just got back home earlier this afternoon from the local shelter. I will be posting another chapter on Sunday.  
**

**Chapter 20**

Hogan sat on the ground beneath the window of his quarters in the back of his barracks. He looked up at the clear night sky, studied the twinkling stars, and let out a deep breath. He did not appear concerned about being spotted by the roaming searchlight or caught by a guard as the searchlight didn't reach behind the barracks, and the guards seldom bothered checking. Sensing a presence, he looked to his left to see his second-in-command crouch down beside him. "I wondered when you would show up, Kinch," he said with a small smirk.

"Wasn't difficult to figure out where you went," Kinch replied, grinning. "There's three places you might go to be alone, and at this time of night I figured you wouldn't stray too far from the barracks as you didn't go into the tunnels. Looks like I was right." An amused grin appeared.

Hogan ran both hands down and up his thighs. "Have a lot on my mind." He paused for a few seconds before looking Kinch in the face. "I spoke with Terry earlier. Explained again my reasons for sending him to London after this mission is completed."

"How'd he take the news?"

Hogan shrugged. "He wasn't thrilled with my decision. But he understood my reasons. To be honest, Kinch, I'm gonna miss having him here. But it's too dangerous, especially with Hochstetter coming around whenever something happens."

"Agreed. For what it's worth, you're doing the right thing sending him back after this mission's completed." Kinch understood how the Colonel felt. In a small way, it did Hogan good to have another officer to talk with daily.

"I know. Did you need to see me about something?"

"Matter of fact I do." He removed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to his commanding officer. "I received a radio message from Damien."

"He wants to meet tomorrow night, same place, 2200 hours," Hogan read. He got to his feet and tucked the paper inside his jacket. "Confirm the meeting for tomorrow night. I want you and Newkirk to meet him tomorrow night after final roll call and bring him here."

"I'll take care of it, Colonel."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "Good." He rested a hand on the radioman's shoulder. "C'mon. I think it's time we all get some sleep."

* * *

The following morning started off like any other morning for the prisoners of barracks two. At roll call, the men were forced to listen to Klink ramble on and on about the victories of the illustrious Third Reich. Bored, Hogan could only roll his eyes towards the heavens and shake his head. Luckily, the German's rambling didn't last long and the men were dismissed. LeBeau prepared a breakfast feast consisting of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast with butter using food from Klink's private stash. After breakfast, Hogan led the men outside for their one hour of daily exercises. Afterwards, the men went about their daily tasks so as not to arouse Klink's suspicions.

But after evening roll call, Kinch and Newkirk met Damien at the prearranged location at 2200 hours and brought him back to the camp. Once inside the barracks, he reached inside his coat pocket and removed two folded papers. He laid them on the table. He stood beside Hogan with Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, Kinch, Terry, Toller and Dray gathered around Damien. Hogan decided that Carter, Dray and Newkirk would plant the explosives inside the plant where the reactors were located. Kinch, Carpenter, and LeBeau would handle the guards on the outside and keep lookout. Toller and Hogan would handle the guards inside the plant and shoot-to-kill if necessary. Hogan and Toller would get the plans for the making of the synthetic oil and gasoline before planting the rest of the explosives. If things went well, Hogan figured they would all be out of the plant in less than ninety minutes.

"Where's the office where the plans are kept?" Hogan asked.

Damien pointed to a side corridor on the left side. "Here. You go down this corridor and you will come to a locked door. The files are in there according to Gustav."

Hogan nodded. "Locked, eh? It's a good thing Newkirk taught me how to pick a lock." He grinned at the Englander who beamed with pride.

"He's not the master I am, but he'll do all right. Especially for a Yank," Newkirk smirked.

"There is one other thing, Colonel," Damien continued. He showed the second sketch to the group. "There is a back door that leads into the room where the reactors are located. It is kept locked at all times. One of my men checked out the door and told me it has a combination lock in place of a standard lock. You need to have the proper combination to open it or it will trigger an alarm."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Hogan glanced at the Englander. "Right, Newkirk?"

"No problem at all, Gov'nor."

Hogan looked at the radioman. "Kinch, we'll also need a truck from the motor pool. Make sure it's parked in the woods ready for tomorrow night."

"I'll take care of it," Kinch replied.

"And update London we'll blow that plant tomorrow night."

"Will do."

"Okay, that's it," Hogan concluded folding the papers and placing them inside his inner jacket pocket. "We make our move tomorrow night at 2200 hours. Carter, I need you and Toller to make up a nice batch of explosives with timers." He smiled and shook hands with Damien. "Thank you and thank your men for us. You've been a big help."

"Colonel, are you certain you don't need our help with this assignment? We'd be glad to help Papa Bear anyway we can."

"Thanks but no thanks. We have more than enough people for the job. Besides, you've done enough." Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "Newkirk, escort Damien out through the emergency tunnel."

"Right, sir."

"Good luck, Colonel," Damien replied as he prepared to follow the Englander down the ladder into the tunnel.

Once Newkirk and Damien left, Hogan glanced around at the others and let out a deep breath. "Okay. I suggest we all get a few hours sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day and night. Kinch, don't leave yet. I want to ask you something." Hogan eyed his godson. "Terry, could you give me and Kinch a few minutes alone?"

"Sure, Colonel." Carpenter was sure they would be discussing him as he followed the others and left the room.

Alone, Hogan turned to his radioman. "After you update London, I want you to find out how soon after tomorrow night can they have a sub here to pick up Lieutenant Carpenter. We'll be sending him on his way as soon-as-possible after this mission is completed. And make sure to tell them the other three who came with him are joining our unit and will be staying here in Stalag 13."

"It'll be done, Colonel."

"Thanks. You can tell Terry it's okay for him to come back in now. We all need to get a few hours sleep. Oh, and Kinch, this stays between us for now." Kinch nodded indicating he understood and left the small room. Seconds later, Carpenter reentered.

"Everything okay, Rob?" he asked.

"Fine," Hogan said. "I needed Kinch to tell London a few other things. He removed the papers from his jacket and spread them out on his desk. He stood behind his desk, hands gripping the edges as he studied the papers. Carpenter sat down on the lower bunk watching his godfather.

"Something's been bothering you since Damien reported back to you tonight. What is it, Rob? Having second thoughts?"

"Not second thoughts," Hogan replied. "Just thinking. Right after that plant blows, the Gestapo's gonna be all over the area, and I want everybody back here and accounted for when that plant blows. I can guarantee you our resident Gestapo nut, Major Hochstetter, will come here looking to connect me with the destruction."

Terry nodded his head understanding. He studied the papers in front of Hogan. "What are the chances with something this big that he might uncover something and connect the dots?"

Hogan allowed a small smile to appear as he turned his head to look at his godson. "Zero if everything goes according to plan." He folded the papers and hid them inside one of his paperback books laying on the footlocker. Wearily, Hogan removed his crush cap and tossed it on his desk. He ran a hand over his dark hair, leaned against his desk, and folded his arms across his chest. "It's been a long day and we have an even longer one tomorrow. I suggest we call it a night and go to bed." The two men changed into their pajamas and climbed up on their respective bunks. Within minutes, both men were sound asleep; all thoughts of the mission tomorrow night forgotten.

* * *

The following day after lunch, Hogan returned to his quarters and went over the sketches and the plan again for the mission. At 2200 hours tonight, he would lead his team on the biggest and most dangerous mission they had ever been given. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," he ordered.

The door opened, and Carter looked in the room. "Colonel, I thought you'd want to know Mike and I have the explosives ready and we double checked them and the timers. Everything's good to go, sir."

Hogan smiled. "Thanks, Carter. Good work."

A smile appeared on the young Sergeant's face. "Thanks, Colonel. Anything else you want me or Mike to do?"

"Get some rest. We have a long night ahead of us tonight."

"Yes, sir." Carter backed out of the room closing the door. Minutes later came another knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Kinch walked in closing it behind him. "I got through to London this morning, Colonel, and explained we're blowing that plant tonight. When I asked them about the sub, they said they can have one at the usual rendezvous place three days from today." He paused a few seconds. "They weren't too thrilled about the other three staying here instead of being sent back with the Lieutenant, but they'll abide by your decision."

Hogan chuckled. "Glad to hear London was so agreeable."

Kinch smirked. "Was there ever any doubt, sir?" He saw his commanding officer grin a normal grin as his eyes returned to the sketches.

"Kinch, do me a favor."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Have Baker and Addison come see me. I want to add them to the team on tonight's mission. They can keep an eye on the truck and keep the motor running so we can make a quick getaway."

* * *

After lights out, Hogan and his men made their way down to the tunnels. There they found Toller and Dray already changing into dark clothing. Hogan explained that Addison and Baker would stay with the truck. The Colonel ordered Sergeant Segal to monitor the radio, and since Sergeant Olsen was third in rank behind Carter and Kinch, he left the young man in charge. Hogan had great faith in the men who were staying behind to hold down the fort until the others got back. Hogan and the others going with him quickly changed out of their uniforms. Then, except for Kinch and Baker, smeared their faces with grease to camouflage their faces. They also put on black gloves to conceal their hands.

Both Carter and Toller had checked the timers and explosives a third time and reported them in good working condition before placing them inside two knapsacks with Carter and Hogan each slinging one over his shoulder. Newkirk made certain each man had two pistols, knives, and an automatic rifle. The rifles were slung over each man's shoulder, the knives and the pistols stuck into waistbands except for the Colonel who stuck his knife and one pistol in his waistband, and the other inside his windbreaker. Hogan looked at his team.

"Everybody ready?" he asked. Everybody responded they were. "Then let's go."

Each man climbed out the emergency tunnel one by one with Hogan bringing up the rear. Once all were above ground, everybody made their way to the woods where the truck borrowed from the motor pool was parked and waiting to take them to the synthetic oil plant. Hogan figured it would be best to approach the plant on foot so as not to arouse the suspicion of or alarm the guards, so, he ordered Addison to turn off the road about a half mile from the plant. So Addison drove the truck into the woods and everybody got out. Addison and Baker would stay with the vehicle to make sure they would have the means with which to return to camp.

The group made their way to the plant through the dense woods until coming to a spot where they had a clear look at their target without being seen by the guards. Hogan raised the binoculars hanging from around his neck, and looked through the eyepieces. He noticed the guard shack with its two guards whose duty he knew was to check the identification of anybody entering the plant. He also watched the guards in front of the plant as they patrolled around the back of the building and re-emerging back to the front again.

"What do you think, Colonel?" Kinch asked watching what was going on as was Hogan.

"Other than the two guards in the shack, looks like the other five patrol the front and the back of the plant. Carter, you, Dray, and Newkirk go around to the back. Once Newkirk gets that back door open, you three get inside and plant the explosives. Kinch, you, Terry, and LeBeau know what to do. The rest of you, wait until Kinch, Terry and LeBeau take care of the guards outside the plant. Toller, you come with me. All of you, if you can, use your knives on these guards. We don't want to alarm the guards inside the plant and tip them off before we get inside."

"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied.

"Oui, Colonel."

Hogan studied the faces of each of his men. "All right everybody; you have your assignments, and be careful."

Quietly, the men all left their hiding place and set about carrying out their assigned tasks.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

After Carter, Dray and Newkirk made their way to the back of the plant, Kinch, Terry, LeBeau, Hogan and Toller made their way toward the front. Kinch and Toller took out the two guards in the shack with their knives. Kinch, Terry and LeBeau went in search of the five guards still on patrol. They found three of them heading toward the back of the plant and quickly disposed of them. Kinch motioned for Terry to come with him and for LeBeau to join Newkirk and the others.

"Newkirk, you've got magic fingers," the Englander said in a low voice with a smile looking at his hands after hearing the last tumbler click and the door automatically crack open. He started to follow Carter and Dray inside when from the corner of his eye he saw a gray uniform and whipped around, pistol in hand, and fired at the guard who had been approaching quietly. He hurried over to and knelt down, pressing two fingers against the man's throat as the other two hurried back outside, weapons in their hands. Newkirk looked up and shook his head. "Go back inside and start planting the explosives," he told them. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Newkirk picked up the dead guard's automatic weapon, turned, and started back to rejoin the others inside when it happened.

"Pierre, behind you!"

Newkirk dropped to the ground just as two shots were fired. Carter and Dray hurriedly reappeared, pistols in hand, to find out what happened. Newkirk got to his feet and looked at LeBeau. On the ground lay the body of a dead guard who had been sneaking up behind the Englander to shoot him in the back. The trio looked at LeBeau who stared at the dead guard with disdain. The Frenchman bent down and took the guard's automatic rifle and pressed two fingers against the man's throat. "He won't cause us anymore trouble," he added.

"Thanks, little mate," Newkirk said in a strained voice. Inside, he shook realizing now how close he had come to dying.

"You can thank me later, mon ami," LeBeau told him.

Hogan, Kinch, Terry, and Toller entered through the front door of the plant with Kinch and Toller entering first knowing six more guards waited inside the building, their attention drawn to the gunfire outside. The minute they entered, a guard seated at a small desk leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk saw them. Surprised at seeing the intruders, he bolted to his feet reaching for his sidearm at the same time; but Kinch was quicker. He fired, striking the guard whose own shot went wide. He dropped his weapon and fell, but his arm weakly rose and his fingertips barely touched the button on the inside part of the desk where his chair would normally be. An alarm sounded as his arm fell limply to the floor. Kinch grabbed the man's sidearm and rejoined the others.

Newkirk, LeBeau, Dray and Carter exchanged concerned looks having heard the gunshots and the alarm. They wondered what the hell had happened.

"Something must have gone wrong inside," LeBeau said.

Newkirk glanced at the little Frenchman. "The Gov'nor's not alone. They'll handle things. We've got a job to do." He and the small Frenchman looked in the direction from which LeBeau had come. They both worried about their friends, wondering if everybody was all right.

Inside, one of the guards fired his automatic weapon spraying the air shooting out the lights and plunging the room into darkness. But Hogan and the others were accustomed to maneuvering in the dark; Kinch and Hogan somewhat better than Carpenter and Toller. The four men had barricaded themselves behind several unopened crates of supplies. Carpenter slowly moved to the right hoping to circle behind the guard who had fired the burst of gunfire, but had a little trouble determining where his target was. He accidentally bumped into something causing a noise. Realizing he had revealed his position, he ducked and covered his head to protect his eyes as a barrage of bullets struck the wall above his head causing bits of plaster and dust to fly in all directions. Hogan took aim with his automatic weapon at the flashes and fired. The flashes ceased as the gun went silent. Terry moved in the direction he had seen the flashes from Hogan's weapon and joined him and Toller.

"You okay?" the Colonel asked, worried.

"Yeah. Thanks. I really never saw the guy. Sorry."

"It's okay." The three men made their way in the darkness until they found and recognized Kinch.

"Everybody all right?" Kinch asked in a soft voice.

"We're fine," Hogan replied. "There are six guards in here. We took out two of 'em so far." He shook his head. "We have to get the paperwork on the making of the synthetic oil and gasoline."

"But how, Colonel?" asked Kinch. "We don't know where the other four guards are."

Hogan scratched his chin and looked at the others. He needed to figure a way to the office. He knew they were not only pinned down, but easy targets for the remaining guards. Suddenly Hogan's face brightened.

Carter, Dray, Newkirk and LeBeau looked around the room. Hearing the exchange of gunfire from the other room, Newkirk looked at Carter and Dray. "Start planting the explosives, Carter. LeBeau and I will keep watch." Carter nodded as he and Dray began planting the bombs where they would cause the most damage and destroy the reactors. More gunfire came from the other room causing all the men to pause and look at the other door scared for their comrades. But they also knew they had a job to do and Carter and Dray resumed planting their explosives.

Kinch saw Hogan's face brighten. He knew his commanding officer had an idea. Hogan faced his second-in-command and Toller.

"Kinch, you and Toller draw their fire while Carpenter and I try for the file room, then we'll circle around and come behind whoever's firing." Kinch nodded before Hogan and Terry took their leave of them.

It didn't take long for Hogan to locate the corridor. The Colonel suddenly put a hand on Carpenter's arm stopping him. His gut told him something felt wrong. They had met no resistance on their way to the file room, and it had been too easy as far as Hogan was concerned. Carpenter turned to ask Hogan what was wrong when the Colonel's eyes caught a movement from behind an overturned desk and table.

"Run!" Hogan shouted as he turned. Carpenter did the same as a guard began firing at them, bullets hitting the walls and shattering windows in the darkness; shards of glass falling everywhere. Hogan and Carpenter both returned fire but the exchange of gunfire continued. Hogan suddenly yelped as he felt a burning in the back of his upper arm. They continued running in the direction from which they had come, somehow avoiding further injury.

Kinch and Toller, hearing footsteps rapidly approaching from the left, turned their weapons in that direction preparing for one or more guards to appear. At the last minute Kinch recognized Hogan and pushed Toller's weapon down as well as lowering his own. Hogan relayed what had happened and grimaced when he moved his right arm. Kinch's eyes narrowed.

"The Colonel's been hit," Carpenter explained, worried.

"It went clean through my arm. I'll be all right," Hogan explained as Kinch pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket. Hogan removed his windbreaker and let Kinch tie the handkerchief around the wound hoping to slow down the bleeding. Hogan put his windbreaker on again. "Thanks, Kinch. We can't reach the file room this way. We need to find another way."

Newkirk and LeBeau grew more and more apprehensive at the sound of gunfire from the other room. Newkirk turned to instruct LeBeau to stay while he went to help the others when he was interrupted.

"Mike and I have finished setting the bombs," Carter said with a grin.

Newkirk nodded. "Okay then, let's go help the others." The Englander motioned for them to keep quiet before he cracked open the door and peered into the other room. He quickly closed the door and looked over his shoulder. "The bloody lights are out and the room's dark. Watch yourselves. There's no bleedin' way to know how many ruddy guards are still out there waitin'. Let's go." He quietly opened the door again and slipped out, followed by the others. Making their way warily along a long hallway, Newkirk overheard low voices talking and recognized them right away as German. He looked at the others and put a finger to his lips indicating for them to be quiet. He took a cautious step forward and unfortunately the floor creaked from the movement.

Two guards appeared from around the corner and opened fire at the four men. Newkirk and the others dropped to the floor and avoided being hit by gunfire. Able to make out the outline of the guards from the flashes of the gunfire, Newkirk and Dray returned fire until the guards stopped firing. With weapons aimed, Newkirk and Dray slowly approached the bodies and saw they were dead. They were joined by LeBeau and Carter.

"Filthy Bosche," LeBeau muttered under his breath.

The sudden burst of gunfire coming from further down the hallway caused the four men to hurry the rest of the way down the hallway fearing for their friends.

Hogan, Kinch, Terry and Toller crouched down as low as possible as gunfire flew all around and over them. They managed to return fire, but the exchange from the guards was fast and heated. From the corner of his eye, Kinch spotted Newkirk and the others and gestured to Hogan without speaking a word. The Colonel looked in the direction Kinch had been gesturing and his eyes met Newkirk's. With his good arm, Hogan gestured for the Englander and the others to approach from the side while they kept the guards busy hoping they wouldn't hear or see the four men approaching to take them out. The Englander nodded, looked over his shoulder at the others, and motioned for Carter and Dray to follow him, and for LeBeau to stay where he was.

Hogan ordered Kinch to keep low, then he, Toller, and Terry exchanged gunfire with their unseen assailants. They had faith in the others they would be able to carry out the assigned task and continued exchanging gunfire. Suddenly gunfire erupted from the side of the plant and the guards stopped their firing. Hogan, Terry and Toller slowly looked up from behind their barricade with pistols raised.

"All clear, Gov'nor!" came the cry from Newkirk as he and the others joined Hogan.

Hogan and the others walked out from behind their barricade. Hogan checked the time before looking at Carter. "How long before those bombs go off in the reactor room?"

Carter checked the time. "About twenty minutes."

"There are six guards inside this plant according to Damien," said Kinch, worried. "Are there still any we haven't accounted for?"

"All five guards outside the plant are dead, mon Colonel," LeBeau explained.

"What about the guards inside the plant?" Hogan asked. "I know I killed one and Kinch killed one."

"I got two of 'em," Newkirk said. "Carter got at least one and so did LeBeau."

Hogan looked at Toller and Kinch. "Set the rest of those explosives. Carter, you and LeBeau help them. Set these timers so all bombs go off at once. Terry, you and Dray stand guard in case we have anymore visitors. Newkirk, come with me to the file room."

"Right, sir," Newkirk replied as he and Hogan left the others who went about their assigned tasks. They ran down the hallway Hogan and Carpenter had gone down earlier until they came to the locked file room. Hogan shot off the lock. There was only a single file cabinet in the room. Together, the two men went through the papers taking what looked important. Fortunately, there weren't a lot of papers and they went through them quickly.

"All done, Newkirk?" Hogan took the papers from the Englander and stuck them inside his windbreaker for safekeeping.

"Yes, sir." Newkirk noticed the hole in Hogan's jacket. "Gov'nor, you're hurt."

"Only a scratch. I hardly feel it. C'mon. We don't have a lot of time." The two men hurried back where the others were waiting.

"The bombs are all planted, Colonel," said a grinning LeBeau.

"How much time, Carter?" asked Hogan.

Again Carter checked the time. "All explosives will blow in about eight minutes, sir," he replied in response to Hogan's question.

Hogan looked around at all his men grateful that everybody was alive and except for him, apparently uninjured. "We need to get out of here fast." He ushered his men in front of him with himself bringing up the rear. Carpenter turned to say something to Hogan and saw the glint of a weapon which was pointed at Hogan's back.

"No!" Carpenter yelled pushing Hogan aside before shooting at and killing the guard who Hogan had shot when they first entered the plant. The men all turned and looked on in shock. Hogan, pistol aimed, slowly made his way to the body and knelt beside the man. He pressed two fingers against the man's throat, and felt no pulse. A bullet hole was in the man's forehead and a pistol lay near his outstretched hand. Where he had gotten it Hogan had no idea. He looked back at his godson who seemed to be in shock at having killed a man.

"Colonel, we only have about five minutes!" yelled Kinch.

Hogan got to his feet, and he and the men exited the building, running as fast as they could away from the plant. As they got a few yards away from the building, they spotted the truck they had left in the woods coming towards them.

"We heard gunshots," Addison explained. "Baker and I figured you might have to leave in a hurry." The men climbed into the truck, and Hogan ordered Baker, behind the wheel, to drive as fast as he possibly could as there was now less than five minutes before the explosion. The truck roared away from the plant. Hogan checked the time hoping they would get safely away in time. Baker broke a record getting back to the road which would take them back to Stalag 13.

Suddenly the synthetic oil plant they had left behind exploded; flames shooting high into the sky. The explosions shook the immediate area making it difficult for Baker to keep control of the truck but he managed.

"Right on time for once," Newkirk grinned looking at his watch. "Usually Carter's explosives are a minute or two late." He looked at the young Sergeant who gave him a scowl. "Don't take it so bloody personal, Carter. You and Toller did good."

"They certainly did. You all did a good job," Hogan added with a grin of his own. He smiled as the other men began talking and laughing among themselves celebrating their successful mission. He turned to his godson who hadn't spoken a word since shooting and killing the guard who prepared to kill his godfather, a look of concern on his face. "Talk to me."

Terry turned to Hogan, a pained look in his eyes. "I killed a man tonight," his voice was strained. "I've never killed anybody face-to-face in my entire life. Never. I didn't want to kill him. But if I hadn't, he would have killed you, and I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had let that happen."

"I know. That played a part in my decision to send you back. If you stayed here, there's always gonna be the possibly you would have to kill somebody again; perhaps often. Not everybody can do what we do. I couldn't subject you to that."

"You were right when you told me in a plane all a pilot has to think about are the targets below and not the civilians."

"I'm sorry you had to find out the hard way."

"I'll be all right," Terry answered with a faint smile. "I'm just glad you're okay except for the injury to your upper arm."

Hogan glanced at the others and they were still busy talking and laughing among themselves and not paying him and Carpenter any attention. He turned back to his godson and smiled. "I barely feel the injury. "No big deal."

Terry smirked. "I want to hear you tell Wilson that when we get back to camp."

* * *

Once the men were back at Stalag 13, Kinch at once sent LeBeau to get Wilson explaining the Colonel had received a gunshot wound to his arm. Hogan, on the other hand, glared at his second-in-command and insisted he was fine, and the injury was minor. But Kinch was insistent and LeBeau, looking frightened hearing the Colonel had been shot, hurried to get the medic. The mission had taken nearly three hours instead of the one hour Hogan thought it would; but he could live with that.

LeBeau returned with Wilson who had his medical bag with him.

"I need you to remove your windbreaker, Colonel," Wilson instructed expecting the Colonel to give him a difficult time as usual.

With a shake of his head, Hogan removed the papers he and Newkirk had taken from the plant, unzipped his windbreaker, and started to remove it. He grimaced from the pain in his arm. The little Frenchman started to approach to help Hogan remove his jacket, but a glare from the Colonel stopped him in his tracks. Hogan managed to get the jacket off himself with a bit of effort. Wilson reached into his medical bag, and grabbing a pair of scissors, cut the handkerchief so it could be removed. LeBeau looked away turning pale at the sight of the blood stained handkerchief.

Wilson cut the sleeve of Hogan's turtleneck and pulled it down to enable him to get at the injury. "The bullet went in and out. It isn't serious and the Colonel should recover fully." That said, the medic cleaned the wound before sewing it closed. He applied a small amount of sulfur powder to help against infection, and bandaged the arm. Finally, he gave the Colonel an injection of a pain medication.

"Thanks, Joe," Hogan replied wearily.

"Get some rest, Colonel," Wilson replied, knowing Hogan wouldn't obey his orders. "I'll check on you later and see how you're doing." As nobody else required his services, Wilson took his medical bag and headed back to his own barracks. After the medic left, Hogan looked at his radioman. He grabbed the papers from the table and handed them to the radioman.

"Kinch, code these in the morning, and contact London after breakfast. Tell them mission accomplished and send the information. After that, find out about that sub and let me know."

"Will do," Kinch replied.

Hogan nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. "Well, gentlemen, I suggest we all change and get a few hours sleep. Roll call's in a couple of hours."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

The following morning, the men of barracks two dragged themselves out into the chilly early morning air. But for Hogan and the men who accompanied him to the plant, that would not be a correct description. As he zipped up his leather jacket while standing in formation, Hogan suspected Toller and Dray were feeling the same. With the pain in his arm reduced to a throbbing, Hogan hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jacket.

"Repooooorrrrrtttt!" Klink hissed exchanging salutes with Schultz. Despite the early hour, there was an iron expression on the Kommandant's face. It told Hogan the German officer was in a foul mood.

"All prisoners present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant," reported the obese guard.

"Excellent, Schultz." Klink turned toward the prisoners. He started to launch into his latest speech when Hogan raised his hand. "What is it, Hogan?"

"Colonel, what was that explosion this morning? I mean it rattled the entire barracks."

Klink stared at his American counterpart. "That was your stupid comrades dropping bombs on what they thought was an important target. As usual, they were wrong."

Hogan shrugged. "Huh. The only thing that's west of Hammelburg is a synthetic oil plant. I don't think the Fuhrer would appreciate it being considered unimportant by a member of the Luftwaffe."

"I did not call the plant unimportant."

"Yes you did, sir. You inferred the Allies thought the plant important, and that they were wrong. That says you consider the synthetic oil plant unimportant."

Klink shook a fist at the American. "Hogan, stop twisting my words around."

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, Kommandant. But you started it by saying the plant was unimportant."

"Hrmph," Klink muttered in frustration as Hogan smirked. Catching a motion out the corner of his eye, the Kommandant turned his head. A black staff car drove through the front gate, its flags in front flapping in the breeze followed by a small truck.

Hogan looked and let out a deep breath. Seeing those flags flapping was the last thing he wanted to see. But he expected them, just not this early. _Gestapo!_

"Looks like we have company," Newkirk said in a low voice.

"Filthy Bosche," LeBeau muttered softly.

"What do we do now, Colonel?" asked Carter standing in the back row beside Kinch.

"Just what I need before breakfast," Hogan replied. "Nothing kills an appetite faster than the men in basic black."

Klink and Schultz hurried to the car and Schultz, huffing and puffing, opened the front passenger door and stood at attention, saluting. A blond-haired Captain with cold, steel-blue eyes, and a scowl on his face, got out of the car, ignoring the salute. He ignored the nervous salute from Klink as well.

"Captain, I'm Colonel Klink. It's always a great pleasure to welcome a member of our illustrious Gestapo to Stalag 13. I only wish I had known you were coming." The smile on his face was forced and looked phony.

The Captain sneered disdainfully at the man he considered beneath him. "I didn't want you to know I was coming." He started walking toward the prisoners outside the barracks, Klink and Schultz scurrying to keep up with him. "Klink, who is the senior officer of the prisoners?" he asked without looking at the Kommandant.

"That would be Colonel Hogan, Captain…uh, Captain…" Klink began.

"I am Captain Bader. Now just answer my question." The three Germans now stood in front of the prisoners. Bader glared at each man individually with hatred. To him, all prisoners should be wiped off the face of the earth instead of being allowed to live in 'luxury' in a prison camp. Bader would go as far as considering POW camps unnecessary.

"This is Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior Prisoner-of-War. Hogan, this…"

Bader partially turned his head in the Kommandant's direction. "I didn't ask for an introduction."

"Yes, sir."

Bader now stood toe-to-toe with Hogan. He looked the man up and down as if Hogan was a bug which should be squashed. Hogan arched his eyebrows and gave Bader his most innocent puppy-dog look but remained quiet.

Bader smirked as he continued looking at Hogan. "So you are Colonel Robert Hogan."

Hogan smirked. "That's what's on my birth records." There were chuckles among the other men. A grin appeared on Hogan's face.

Bader smirked. "So you are a comedian, Colonel." He suddenly reached out his hands and roughly seized a handful of Hogan's leather jacket, jerking the Colonel close. "I don't find your American humor funny, Schwein." He roughly shoved Hogan away from him, and wiped his hands on his outer coat as if touching Hogan dirtied his hands. Klink and Schultz stood in place, mouths open. Hogan straightened his jacket and stared hard at the Captain. _This man is going to be trouble. Wonder where Hochstetter found him?_

Klink nervously laughed. "You must excuse Colonel Hogan, Captain. He has a rather twisted sense of humor which shows itself when he should remain quiet."

But Bader did not share in the laughter. He was on a tight schedule and didn't have time to waste with an obnoxious American Colonel…unfortunately. "Perhaps that is because he hasn't appropriately learned his place But that is your fault, isn't it, Klink?" He slightly turned his head in Klink's direction but avoided looking at him. "But I am in a hurry. This is not the man I am looking for in connection with the destruction of the synthetic oil plant," he announced.

Hogan glanced at his men then back at Bader. "You mean for once the Gestapo isn't blaming me for something?" he teased still staring at the Captain. Bader smirked.

"Too bad you're not the one I seek," Bader's eyes seemed to bore a hole into Hogan's soul. "By the time I was done with you, you would learn respect for the Gestapo."

Seeing Hogan about to open his mouth, Klink knew it was time to interfere before his Senior POW officer incurred the wrath of this Gestapo officer.

"Captain Bader, I don't understand. If you're not here about Colonel Hogan, just who are you here for?"

Bader chuckled as he moved slightly to stand before the man between Hogan and Newkirk. "I am more interested in this pig, Klink." He stared into the face of Lieutenant Carpenter. Hogan's eyebrows knitted together and looked at his godson and then at the Gestapo Captain. Carter, Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk were staring as well, speechless. How had the Gestapo associated Carpenter with what happened at the plant? Nobody was left alive there.

Carpenter raised his eyebrows and looked at the Captain with confusion. "Me, Captain?" Terry asked. "Why me?"

Hogan believed he had to do something; it was expected of him to argue to protect his men. "Is this a new Gestapo tactic, Captain?" he asked. "Trying to get to me through one of my men?"

"Not at all," Bader continued to glare at Carpenter while addressing Hogan. "You see, Colonel, at the plant, one of the guards survived the explosion long enough to give a brief description of two of the saboteurs. He tried to describe a third, but died before he could do so. One of the descriptions matches the Lieutenant here."

"Impossible," Hogan replied using all his strength to keep his face impassive.

"Impossible!" Klink stated emphatically. "We have never had an escape from Stalag 13. Besides, Lieutenant Carpenter hasn't even been here two months yet."

"That's right, Captain," Hogan added. "Lieutenant Carpenter just got here. He's not even familiar with the area. Besides, he can't tell you anything about any sabotage. He's not even familiar with being a prisoner yet."

The Captain chuckled. "Then he doesn't have anything to worry about, does he?" He looked over his shoulder. "Guards!" Three Gestapo guards who had jumped down from the back of the truck earlier came running. "Handcuff this man and put him in the back of the truck!" Bader stood aside and two guards roughly grabbed Terry by his arms, and jerked him out of formation. His hands were cruelly cuffed in front of him. Carpenter looked back at Hogan, trying not to show how terrified he truly felt. The look in his godfather's eyes mirrored how he felt himself.

This was the exact situation Hogan had been afraid would happen. If he remained silent, Terry would be taken away and tortured, perhaps to death, by the Gestapo. If he spoke up, the operation would be in jeopardy, and he and his men in front of a firing squad. Could he risk over one thousand men just to save one? For once he had no idea what to do as the two guards shoved Carpenter towards the truck while the third guard pointed his automatic weapon at the younger man.

Hogan swallowed the lump in his throat. "Captain, you can't do this. It's against the Geneva Convention to take prisoners out of camp for interrogation without a valid reason for doing so."

Bader brought his face dangerously close to Hogan's. "I don't care about the Geneva Convention. I am the Gestapo, and that is all the valid reason I need. The sooner you Schwein learn that, the better off you and your kind will be."

"I'm a slow learner, Captain. Besides, there's nothing this man can tell you. He doesn't know anything about any sabotage or the underground. You'd be wasting your time."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" Bader asked with a smug look. He found this American amusing as well as annoying. He'd give anything to be able to take Hogan as well to Dusseldorf headquarters. He was positive his boss, Major Raben Braun, would enjoy breaking this smug American. Well, perhaps later if the interrogations went well.

"I can personally vouch for Lieutenant Carpenter. He hasn't been outside the wire except on one work detail. And I kept an eye on him the entire time. Besides, with Colonel Klink's highly observant guards watching us, how could anybody escape?"

Bader grinned a twisted grin. "Klink's highly observant guards, eh? From what I've heard, these so-called observant guards as you put it couldn't find their way to the mess hall." He turned and glared at Klink who seemed to wilt before his eyes. "I want to examine your prisoner files. There is another man I have a partial description of and I need to see the pictures of the other prisoners."

Carpenter looked again at Hogan with eyes pleading him not to endanger himself. "I'll be back before you know it, Colonel. I haven't done anything wrong."

"I wouldn't count on returning to Stalag 13 anytime soon, Lieutenant," Bader continued to grin maliciously. "You and I are going to have a long talk about the destruction of the synthetic oil plant west of Hammelburg." He watched as Terry was forced into the back of the truck with one guard getting in the back with him. The Captain ordered Schultz to dismiss the remaining prisoners, and accompanied Klink to his office. Schultz hastily dismissed the men and rushed to catch up with the Kommandant and the Gestapo officer.

As the prisoners dispersed, Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk gathered around their commanding officer. His face remained impassive, but his eyes showed his inner turmoil.

"What are we going to do, Colonel," LeBeau asked Hogan softly.

Hogan's face paled as he stared at the truck. "Unfortunately, right now I have no idea. This is exactly what I didn't want to have happen. I promised his father I would keep him safe." He looked at his team. The men saw their commanding officer, for once, having no idea what to do to help his godson. He was in an unenviable position.

"Lieutenant Carpenter's a good man, Gov'nor. He won't talk." Newkirk hoped his words would offer Hogan a small comfort. But he knew they wouldn't.

"I know he wouldn't. But Terry's never dealt with anybody the likes of the Gestapo and Hochstetter before," Hogan explained.

"Which guard do you think talked?" asked Carter. "I thought we killed all of 'em?"

"That's not important, Andre," said LeBeau with a shake of his head. "What matters is how can we help Lieutenant Carpenter."

"As I see it," Hogan explained. "We have two choices. One, we have the underground intercept Bader after he leaves here and free Terry and the others. Or two, we bust them out of Gestapo headquarters." He watched Bader storm down the steps of the Kommandantur with Klink and Schultz hurrying to keep up with him. The Captain gestured for the two guards to come with him.

"Where do you think they're heading?" asked Carter.

"My guess would be to perhaps grab Toller or Dray," Newkirk added. "They were the only others who were with us."

"You might be right," Hogan said. "But there's no time for choice number one. That leaves us with only choice number two."

"Colonel, when I reach London, do you want me to inform General Butler about Lieutenant Carpenter?" asked Kinch.

"No. I don't want to worry General Carpenter if it isn't necessary." Hogan knew at this time of the morning London would be unavailable. And even if they were available, he had no idea how or what he would say to Terry's father. Hogan didn't want to scare the man as that was the last thing he wanted to do. But Terry was General Carpenter's only child.

"Yes, sir."

As Hogan and the others looked on, Bader walked back in the direction of the truck with his two guards behind him; their automatic rifles aimed at the backs of Dray and Toller. Both men had their arms cuffed in front of them. Klink and Schultz trudged behind the guards at a safe distance; both men with a frown on his face. Hogan hurried forward in a final try to stop the Captain from taking the three men out of camp. Bader spotted the American approaching, and motioned to one of the guards. That guard at once stepped forward, whipped his weapon in Hogan's direction, and pointed it at the Colonel stopping him in his tracks. Klink and Schultz also froze in their tracks and stared, jaws dropped and eyes wide, both fearing for Hogan's safety. The other guard forced Dray and Toller into the back of the truck and climbed in after them. He sat on the bench opposite the prisoners and faced them with a scowl on his face. The three prisoners stared at Hogan, worried the Colonel might get himself shot if he persisted.

Hogan folded his arms across his chest. "Captain, why are you taking these two men besides to the Lieutenant? You said you only had a description of two men. Now to me…"

"Not that it's any of your business, Colonel, but both of these men fit the description given. And until the Gestapo can decide which one, we will take both of them." Bader smirked. "Besides, it might be that both of them are involved."

"Blimey," was all Newkirk could utter as he and the others continued watching and listening from a short distance.

"Captain…"

"I suggest you stand back, Hogan," Bader sneered. "My guard has what I believe you call an itchy trigger finger." The Captain and Hogan glared at each other, each man refusing to look away. There was intense dislike in both their eyes. "Colonel, you are delaying my departure with your arrogance. I will count to ten. If you haven't gotten out of my way by then, the guard will put a bullet in your head. One…"

"You don't scare me, Captain. I understand you and your kind better than you think."

"Two…"

Hogan stood his ground. From the corner of his eye he saw the pleading on Carpenter's face.

"Three…"

"Colonel Hogan, please…" Schultz begged the American officer who was one of his 'boys.' It was at this time the obese guard wished he had bullets in his rifle.

"Four…"

Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Kinch took a few steps forward trying to get Hogan's attention. They all sensed this Gestapo Captain wouldn't hesitate to have their commanding officer gunned down in front of them, regardless of the repercussions.

"Colonel, you can't help the men if you're dead," Newkirk said. He ran a hand across the back of his jacket collar and rested it on the handle of his hidden pencil sharpener. The Englander tried to judge if he would be able to hit the guard before he shot the Colonel.

"Five…"

"Hogan, I will throw you in the cooler for the duration of the war if you don't return to your barracks," Klink threatened. In reality, he believed he was watching the bravest thing he had ever seen a commander do, albeit risky. He wondered if he could ever have that much courage if the situation was reversed.

"Six…"

Carter wanted to say something but couldn't think of the words to say. His brain refused to work right now. He was afraid; afraid for his commanding officer. He wished at this moment he had an explosive he could throw at that guard and Captain.

"Seven…"

"Please, mon Colonel…"

"Eight…"

"Colonel, you can't help the men this way," Kinch pleaded his case. He felt desperate seeing his commanding officer standing up against the Gestapo, daring them.

"Nine…"

"Colonel, don't do this." Terry was terrified. He had never seen his godfather act like this. So willing to call the Gestapo's bluff.

"Ten."

Everybody held their collective breaths as gunfire shattered the early morning silence, and its echo reverberated.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I am using Major Raban Braun with permission of his creator Jennaya. He first appeared in her story The Aftermath: Hochstetter's Story. There is also a racist insult directed at Kinch in this chapter which reflects the thinking of some Germans as to Kinch's race during this time. Finally, per Mapquest, the trip by car from Hammelburg to Dusseldorf is over 200 miles and takes 3 hours. But for purposes of this story, the trip will take about one hour allowing either Hammelburg or Dusseldorf Gestapo to have jurisdiction.**

**Chapter 23**

Everybody stood frozen in place, not believing what they had seen. Bader, smirking, looked quizzically at the guard who had fired his weapon. "Sergeant, how can you miss from this distance? I've never seen you miss from this close a range." The Captain turned his head to look at Hogan who hadn't even blinked.

Hogan released the breath he had been holding wondering why he was still alive as the guard stood so close to him. When the guard's finger tightened on the trigger, he believed his luck had finally run out. But the shot had missed him, apparently on purpose. Hogan decided it was fate's way of telling him he was getting a second chance and not to press his luck. He glanced in the truck. With his eyes fixated on his godson, their expressions said what they couldn't put into words. Hogan felt somebody gently take his arm. He looked back over his shoulder at the concerned face of Kinch.

"Now is not the time, Colonel," the radioman said softly bringing his face close to the Colonel's ear. "But we will get them back." Hogan nodded subtly and stepped away from the truck seeing the sickening smirk on Bader's face as he allowed his second-in-command to lead him away from the vehicle.

Bader smirked. "Yes, Hogan. Do as your schwarzer Halbaffe tells you."(1)

Hogan stopped and started to turn and respond to the man's insult of his radioman, but Kinch tightened his grip on Hogan's arm. "Ignore him, Colonel. He's trying to bait you. Don't let him get to you."

Bader chuckled and calmly climbed into his car. Hogan continued to glare at the staff car as it and the truck drove out of camp. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and looked at the radioman. "Kinch, contact the underground and ask for Damien. Tell him what's happened. I want them to contact us when Bader shows up at Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg. I owe that bastard, and as they say, revenge is a dish best served cold." He turned and stormed back to the barracks with his men behind him.

Klink and Schultz stood and watched the Senior POW officer walk in the direction of the barracks; both still in shock over what had taken place a few minutes ago.

The Kommandant can only shake his head, astonished. "Schultz, I can't believe what I have just seen. Can you?"

"Herr Kommandant, that was the bravest thing I have ever seen someone do for their men," Schultz said admiringly. Deep down, the Sergeant-of-the-guard believed he had figured out what had Colonel Hogan so upset. But he would never discuss it with anybody except the Colonel or those closest to him.

Klink looked at the large man seeing the look of admiration in Schultz's eyes knowing he would never look at him the same way. "Oh shut-up," Klink muttered, turned, and marched in the direction of the Kommandantur. Schultz glanced at his receding back for a minute. He turned and looked at the American.

* * *

Hogan slammed the barracks door so hard everybody thought it would come loose from its hinges. He whirled around and stared at his second-in-command, anger in his eyes. "Kinch, I can't stand anybody talking to you like that. It's rude, disrespectful, insulting, and you shouldn't have to tolerate it."

"It's all right, Colonel," Kinch explained. "I can live with the Germans doing the name calling. They're not your words or those of the other prisoners. And I don't want you to throw away your life over a few bad names. Besides, saving Lieutenant Carpenter and the others is more important."

Hogan placed a foot on the bench at the table and rested his forearms on his thigh. He sighed wearily. "You're right of course." He checked the time. "London won't be on the radio for a few more hours yet. When you to get in touch with Damien, tell him I need an answer right away."

"Yes, sir." Kinch hurried away in the direction of the double bunk and struck the hidden mechanism. As soon as the lower bunk rose and the ladder dropped, the radioman disappeared into the tunnel.

"Once the underground gets back to you, mon Colonel, do you have a plan to free Terry and the others?"

Hogan lowered his head and shook it sadly. "I haven't a clue what to do. It's like my brain can't function right now."

"That's 'cause you're trying too hard," Carter explained. "Take a deep breath and let it come to you. You'll come up with an idea. You always do, sir. Take a deep breath and let yourself relax."

Newkirk rolled his eyes as he looked at the young Sergeant. "Carter, we don't have time to relax. Besides, this isn't a deep breathing exercise. This is the Colonel's godson we're talkin' about here." His green eyes looked at Hogan. "You'll come up with something, Gov'nor. And when you do, we'll go get 'im and the others and bring them back here then send them on their way to jolly ole England."

Hogan looked at his men. It warmed his heart they believed he would come up with a plan. Right now, he wished he believed the same thing.

In the radio room, Kinch had been trying to raise the underground. He made several attempts before he finally got somebody.

"This is White Rose, Papa Bear. How can we be of service?"

"We have a mission for Damien. Mission is urgent. Repeat…urgent."

"What do you need us to tell Damien?"

"Three of Papa Bear's cubs have been taken from den by Big Bad Wolf. We need to know when Big Bad Wolf arrives in Wolf's lair in Hammelburg with three cubs. One cub is Lieutenant Carpenter and is important to Papa Bear. Can you help us?"

"Can do. Can we ask why this cub is important to Papa Bear?"

Kinch hesitated before he answered. He didn't want to tell the true relationship of Carpenter to Hogan. "Lieutenant Carpenter is important to the war effort, White Rose."

"Tell Papa Bear we will do our best to get the information, and get back to you as-soon-as-possible. White Rose out."

"Thanks. Papa Bear out."

* * *

A terrified Carpenter, Toller, and Dray stared at the three armed guards glaring hard at them, their weapons aimed at them. The entire time, Terry's only thoughts were of Rob. He suspected Hogan was out of his mind with worry. He also knew Hogan would do everything in his power to find and rescue him and the others. With a glance at his fellow prisoners, Terry had dismissed any plans of trying to make a break for freedom. If he had been alone, he might have tried. But he would not leave his subordinates behind him. Perhaps he might find a way to contact Rob and let him know where they were once they arrived. But first, he must gather whatever information he could. He turned and looked at the guard seated across from them.

"So," Carpenter began slowly. "How long before we arrive at Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg?"

The guard smirked at the American officer. "You are not going to Hammelburg Gestapo, amerikanisches Schwein."(2)

Carpenter's eyebrows arched. "Then where are we heading?"

"You are prisoners of the Dusseldorf Gestapo and Major Braun."

"Who's Major Braun?" Carpenter asked. He had never heard of the man, but it wasn't surprising as he'd never heard of Major Hochstetter either. But something told him he would not like the answer he received. There was something chilling about the guard's expression.

"You will find out soon. Let me say the Major has never not gotten information from a prisoner he has interrogated. Before he is done, you will tell him everything. In between screaming, that is."

Carpenter swallowed the growing lump in his throat, realizing Hogan believed they were being taken to Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg. _Rob, help me. _

* * *

Hogan paced back and forth in the common room, both hands jammed into the back pockets of his pants. He worried about what Hochstetter would do once he had Terry in Gestapo headquarters. He understood the man would somehow try and use the Lieutenant to pin the sabotage on him. What would he do when that happened? Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk sat at the table watching their commanding officer. Newkirk puffed on a cigarette with a cup of coffee in front of him. LeBeau rested his chin against one hand, and Carter twiddled his fingers. None of them knew what to do for the Colonel.

The sound of the bottom bed of the double bunk in the corner rattling upward caught their attention. Even Hogan stopped his pacing long enough to look. Soon, Kinch appeared from the tunnels and stepped into the common room. He struck the hidden mechanism and approached the Colonel as the lower bunk dropped over the opening.

"Well?" asked Hogan; the other men stared at Kinch as well, waiting anxiously.

"I spoke with White Rose, and she will relay our message to Damien. They'll get back to us as soon-as-possible. I left Segal monitoring the radio."

"All we can do now is wait," Hogan replied somberly. "Hopefully by the time we hear something I'll have come up with a plan."

"Try not to worry, Colonel." LeBeau did his best to reassure his commanding officer as Hogan resumed pacing. "Lieutenant Carpenter and the others are good soldiers. They will not talk."

"You're right, LeBeau," Hogan replied. "But Hochstetter will not give up easily. And if he's convinced Terry and the others are guilty, he'll use everything at his disposal to link their part in things to us. And where does that leave us? In front of a firing squad."

* * *

Major Raban Braun, head of the Dusseldorf Gestapo, sat at his desk going over the paperwork of his last interrogation. He recalled how the prisoner had screamed in agony during the questioning, and it exhilarated him. The disappointment was the man died before he admitted anything. Braun knew if he had had more time, he was confident he would have gotten a full confession. He had always enjoyed interrogating prisoners. Other interrogators were, in his opinion, amateurs with their routine methods. Filleting a prisoner gave him a rush routine interrogation methods didn't. His methods made him a person feared by his subordinates, and admired by his superiors.

A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. "Come in," he ordered. The door opened and in walked Captain Bader. The man exchanged salutes with Braun. "What is it, Captain?"

"We have returned from Stalag 13 with prisoners who match the descriptions given by the guard at the synthetic oil plant, Herr Major. They are being escorted to solitary as we speak."

Braun smiled deviously. Only Captain Bader knew the guard who gave the descriptions had been a friend of the Major's. And Braun would not be in a forgiving mood when they found the guilty party or parties. Anybody who injured a member of his family or a friend paid and paid dearly. "Excellent Captain. Did the Schwein or that simpleton Klink give you any trouble?"

"Nein, Herr Major." Bader smirked. "But we did have a bit of trouble with an amerikanisches Schwein named Hogan." Braun's eyebrows arched.

"I've heard of this Hogan. A rather obnoxious and arrogant Schwein. He has been a thorn in the side of the Third Reich since his arrival at Stalag 13."

"You know of him, Herr Major?"

Braun tapped the pen he held in his hand on his desk. "Yes. What do you think of this Hogan, Captain?" He was familiar with Hogan from what his friend Major Hochstetter told him. Braun found himself secretly admiring the American for his intelligence and ingenuity in avoiding capture. He knew Hochstetter had tried since Hogan first arrived in Stalag 13 to connect him with the increased sabotage in the area. But he had failed each time, and his superiors now considered him obsessed with the American officer, and in a less favorable light because of it. Now he wanted to see what his second-in-command thought of the man.

"I am not certain, Mein Herr. He could be involved in the destruction of the plant. But he did not match the descriptions given by the guard."

"But you don't agree?"

"Nein, Major."

"Perhaps if we get the answers we seek from these men, this Colonel Hogan will be joining us for questioning next."

"Jawohl, Mein Herr." Bader paused for a few moments. "Major, are you going to inform Major Hochstetter you have pulled three prisoners from Stalag 13? I mean, the camp is under his jurisdiction."

Braun remained silent for a few minutes, thinking of Hochstetter, a dear and longtime friend of his. And the synthetic oil plant did fall under his territory. But it also fell under Dusseldorf's territory.

"Nein. We will handle the interrogation of these prisoners. If our investigation expands and it becomes necessary, I will contact him myself."

"Jawohl. There is one more thing you should know, Mein Herr."

"Yes?"

"One prisoner is Lieutenant Carpenter. This Colonel Hogan seemed more than a bit upset to me when we removed him from the camp." He explained what happened between him and Hogan.

Paperwork forgotten, Bran placed his elbows on the desk, fingers pyramided in front of him. "Being Senior officer of the prisoners, he would be concerned about the removal of his men from camp."

"Sir, I suspect something more here. I have no idea what it is, but I suspect it is more than just concern, especially for this Lieutenant Carpenter."

Braun smiled in a way which sent chills even down Bader's spine. "Perhaps I should start my questioning with this Lieutenant Carpenter." He smirked sadistically. "However, let's give them something to think about first, shall we, Captain?" He saw Bader chuckle devilishly at his remarks.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Very simple. Let's let the prisoners speculate as to their fate, shall we? Let them worry all night about what awaits them. I will begin my interrogation tomorrow with the Lieutenant. If there's nothing else, you may leave, Captain."

"Jawohl, Mein Herr," Bader replied exchanging salutes with his commanding officer. He smartly turned and left the office. Now alone, Braun leaned back in his chair and grinned. He wanted Lieutenant Carpenter to think long and hard during the night. Afterall, the Major liked his prisoners terrified and fearful of what was to come.

* * *

The following day, Carpenter awoke and slowly sat up on the hard straw mattress. He looked around the dingy, dark cell, hoping he had been dreaming. He quickly found out he hadn't been. The cell was cramped, and he felt a chill as his jacket had been taken as well as his crush cap. The rumbling in his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, but he didn't feel he could keep anything down anyway. He saw the dried bloodstains on the walls and it made him shudder. He could only imagine the terror and torture experienced by those confined in here before him. On one wall hung a set of chains with one end embedded in the wall itself. He swallowed nervously eying them and rubbed his hands together as they dangled between his knees. The only relief he enjoyed was his handcuffs had been removed although his wrists are red and chafed.

He wondered about Dray and Toller as he had not seen them since they were all brought below where the solitary cells were located. Terry only hoped they were still alive. So far he had dismissed every idea he came up with to try and contact Hogan. Carpenter let out the deep breath he had been holding. All he could do is hope his godfather came soon. He wondered about this Major Braun and why he hadn't seen him since his arrival. Terry then heard a door close down the hall, and the sound of footsteps heading in his direction. He suspected he was about to get the answer to his question.

As he ran his hands down his thighs, Terry waited nervously for what would happen next. He didn't have long to wait. He spotted Captain Bader, accompanied by three armed guards, standing outside his cell. One of the guards retrieved the key ring for the cells from his belt and unlocked the door. The guard placed the key ring back on his belt, and pulled his Lugar from its holster.

"On your feet, Schwein," Bader ordered pulling his weapon. "Major Braun wishes to speak with you."

Feeling another cold chill permeate his entire body, Terry did as ordered. He got to his feet and approached the Germans. For a moment he considered rushing the Germans and hopefully getting a weapon away from one of them. But he gave up the idea looking at the automatic rifles two of the guards held. He realized those weapons could cut him down before he got close so he dismissed the thought. When he stood in front of the Captain, Bader removed his handcuffs from his belt and placed them on Carpenter's wrists tightly in front of him. The German grabbed the Lieutenant's arm and led him in the direction of one of the interrogation rooms.

* * *

Sergeant Max Segal sat at the radio with the headset on his head, trying to read a magazine although unable to concentrate. He was as worried as everybody else about the three men. So obsessed with his thoughts, he jumped when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked around, and saw the face of his commanding officer.

"Nothing yet, Colonel," he said. He had been told what happened in the compound between Hogan, the Gestapo Captain, and the guard. Hogan's actions elevated the Colonel's standing in Segal's eyes although he would never tell the Colonel.

"I know," Hogan replied quietly. "I had to escape the barracks. I was about to lose my mind."

"I understand, sir. Sir, they'll be all right. Lieutenant Carpenter is an extremely capable officer. He's a lot like you. That tells me they'll make it."

A faint smile appeared on Hogan's face. "I hope you're right, Sergeant. I hope you're right."

* * *

Carpenter's eyes looked around the interrogation room to which he had been brought. It didn't look much different than the cell he had been in earlier. Only difference was the one-way mirror, and the chains hanging from a wall across from the mirror. He realized those on the opposite side of the mirror would be able to see everything which happened to the person hanging from those chains. A table was bolted to the floor, and there were two chairs, one on each side. One chair had manacles on the arms and legs by which a prisoner could be secured to the chair. Carpenter was shoved into the room by Bader, and again toward and up against the wall. His handcuffs were removed by the guard with the Lugar. Terry grimaced as his arms were roughly yanked up above his head, and the manacles clamped tightly around his wrists securing him tightly.

It was only when the restraints were secured did Bader and the guards leave the room leaving Terry alone with his thoughts. He struggled against the restraints but they wouldn't budge. At last he understood exactly how much trouble he was in now. _Rob, I won't talk. I will protect you and the others at all cost. I don't care what they do to me._

The door opened, and a man walked in the room. It was at this precise moment Terry sensed he was looking into the face of the ultimate evil.

* * *

(1)schwarzer Halbaffe means (schwarz-black, Halbaffe-half monkey/ape). It stresses the doubts that the other person is a full human being and suggests the other person belongs in the jungle somehow.

(2)amerikanisches Schwein mean American pig. I thank Pen-or-Sword for the German words and their translations.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Terry tried to hide his nervousness in the face of the man who entered the room. Two of the four guards carried automatic weapons. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, took a deep breath, and let it out. The Gestapo officer presented an imposing figure; tall, powerfully built, and intimidating. He caused fear in anybody who looked at him, and he did in Terry. He remained quiet as the man looked him up and down curiously. The man held a bag which he sat on the table.

"Guten Morgen. So you are Lieutenant Carpenter, correct?" the man addressed him as he now came closer. The guards with side arms stood on either side of the Major. The two with automatic weapons stood a safe distance away, weapons pointed at the floor.

"Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial number 0871519."

The man chuckled. "I am Major Braun. We are going to have a nice talk, you and I. I suggest you tell me everything to make things easy on yourself. Or else I may have to resort to more, how shall I put it, creative means of interrogation which I assure you will be most unpleasant." Terry stayed quiet. "Now, shall we start with what were you doing at the synthetic oil plant outside of Hammelburg yesterday?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Major. I'm just a prisoner-of-war."

"Who was with you and helped you destroy the plant?"

"I was not there, Major. And that's the truth."

"You're a liar." Without warning, Braun's his fist embedded itself in Terry's stomach causing the younger man to grimace. It was followed by a vicious backhand, and a fist again in his stomach. Carpenter's eyes closed and he gasped trying to catch his breath as he grimaced. With a trickle of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, he looked into the Major's hard eyes.

"Drop dead," Terry said painfully.

Braun glanced at the guards on either side of him and nodded as he stepped out of their way. The two guards advanced on Terry and beat him mercilessly for several minutes while Braun kept a blank expression. After ten minutes, Braun signaled for them to stop. The guards, both with blood staining their knuckles, stepped back.

Terry's head lolled to the side and he swallowed hard. He looked at Braun again, dazed from his beating.

"Now let's try this again, shall we? Who was with you when you destroyed the plant?"

"Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial number 0871519."

"You American Schwein are always so difficult. I should tell you, Lieutenant, I am a man of little patience. So let's try this one more time. Who was with you when you destroyed the plant?"

"Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial num…" A fist to his stomach again interrupted him. "…number 0871519." He coughed as he finished and began to gasp for breath.

With a nod at the guards again, Braun stepped back. The guards beat Terry relentlessly. After ten more minutes, the Major again stopped them and surveyed his prisoner. Terry's left eye had begun to swell, and bruising started to form on his face. Blood now dribbled from both sides of his mouth. Terry coughed and spit out a small white object and blood from the cut inside his mouth; the small object being a tooth. Braun studied the younger man for a few minutes.

"Things will get worse for you, Lieutenant. Why don't you end your pain and suffering. Give me the names of your accomplices."

Terry's eyes glanced upward as his head lolled to the side. Every man had his breaking point. And he was no different. But he understood the longer he held out, the more time Hogan had to find him. He chuckled weakly. "Go. To. Hell," he stammered.

Braun frowned. He became angry and that is never a good sign. He was not in a good mood. The earlier prisoner who died before confessing, had made him angry. And although the Gestapo had gotten lucky in finding him, they never got a confession out of him. This time he would accept nothing less than a full confession. He grabbed the front of Terry's shirt and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying in all directions. "Damn fool Americans," he muttered. He then chuckled as he looked into Terry's pain-filled eyes. He grabbed the man's chin, held his head still, and brought his face close. "You will learn nur ein toter Ami ist ein guter Ami."(1)

Braun shoved Terry's face away, walked over to the table, and grabbed the bag. He untied the string tied around it, unfurled it, and laid it on the table. He sensed the American watching him. Braun carefully put the knives in the order in which he intended to use them. But he made sure as he held each one up, he admired its shininess and razor-sharp edge as he did so. He smirked as he lovingly caressed each blade like a long-lost lover. Once he finished, he picked up the first knife and approached Terry with a devilish smile. He smelled the fear emanating from the prisoner, and it thrilled him.

Braun held the knife in front of Carpenter's face gently turning it back and forth. "Now, let's try this again, shall we?"

* * *

Hogan sat at the table staring into the coffee cup he held in both hands. His foot tapped nervously on the floor. This waiting around was killing him. The men stayed out of his way. After hanging around with Segal for nearly an hour in the radio room, Hogan couldn't take anymore and came back upstairs. Kinch had since gone below to join Segal in the radio room. The radioman needed something as well to occupy his mind. Hogan had sent Baker below to watch the switchboard in case somebody called Klink.

Three hours later, Hogan tossed his cap onto the table and ran a hand over his hair; his untouched coffee now cold. LeBeau and Carter had gone outside to mingle with other prisoners to help take their minds off things. Only the Englander remained with Hogan. Newkirk busied himself by shuffling his special deck of cards and looked at Hogan who took a drink of his cold coffee.

"Want to play a few hands of gin, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked. "Might help take your mind off of things a bit."

Hogan glanced at him with a faint smile. "No thanks. I wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway. But I appreciate the offer."

Newkirk shrugged and proceeded to toss one card at a time onto the table aimlessly.

The rattling of the lower bunk upward caught their attention. Hogan got to his feet and hurried over in time as Kinch's head appeared. He waited until the radioman stepped over the bed frame and into the common room.

"Well?" Hogan asked hopefully.

"We heard from Damien, Colonel. As far as his men can tell, there's still no recent activity in the Hammelburg Gestapo."

"What d'ya mean there's no ruddy activity in the Hammelburg Gestapo?" Newkirk chimed in angrily. "Where the hell are they then?" He closed his mouth seeing the warning look on Hogan's face. The Colonel exhaled as he turned back to Kinch.

"It's been over twenty-four hours since they were taken, the Colonel said. "There's no telling what Hochstetter is doing to them right now."

"Sorry, Colonel," Kinch apologized.

Hogan's face softened. "You don't have to apologize. Did Damien say anything else?" He wrapped his arms around himself.

"Only that he still has men watching in case anything happens. He promises he'll get back to us asap if they discover anything."

Kinch's eyes narrowed. "Colonel, it's been over twenty-four hours. Why hasn't Klink contacted Burkhalter and told him about the Gestapo removing three prisoners?"

Hogan stopped his pacing and looked at his radioman. He shrugged. "Hard to say. He might be waiting to see if the Gestapo returns the men in a day or two. That way he won't have to tell Burkhalter anything."

"How long do you think he'll wait before he calls?" asked Newkirk looking up at his commanding officer.

"My guess? He'll call Burkhalter tomorrow morning at the earliest. He'll have no choice. Is Baker still monitoring the switchboard?" he asked Kinch.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Thanks Kinch. All we can do is wait." Hogan let out a weary breath and turned away and began to pace again.

* * *

Braun wiped the blood from the fourth of his knives on Carpenter's shirt. He stood back to admire his handiwork. Carpenter's chest was a mass of cuts; several deep, several not so deep. But he knew all were non life-threatening. He didn't want the man to die on him just yet. He would take his time and savor each moment. Terry hung limply from the chains, unconscious. He had passed out midway of the torture. But his groans didn't satisfy the Major. He wanted the man to beg. He sensed it would be only a matter of time before the American officer broke. And even after he broke, Braun would continue to torture him for his own enjoyment. The filleting would come at the end. And when that moment arrived, the Major planned to have the Corporal and Sergeant brought to the interrogation room. He wanted them to witness the Lieutenant's last hours of life. And, he wanted them to witness what awaited them. He looked smugly at the two guards.

"Take him back to his cell."

"Jawohl, Herr Major," one guard answered as both saluted. Braun returned the salute. As they had observed the torture, both had become squeamish. But it was their fear of the Major which kept them quiet. They both understood the Major had no tolerance for men who couldn't stomach his methods. And those men didn't last long. It was no secret Braun was known to 'dispose' of soldiers he considered weak.

Braun rolled up the bag after replacing his knives and tied the string. He calmly left the room accompanied by the guards with the automatic weapons leaving the other two to deal with Carpenter.

Nearly two hours later Terry regained consciousness. He found himself laying face-down on the cold cobblestone floor. Struggling to lift his head, a sharp wave of pain shot through his entire body causing him to stop. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out from the protests of his body. His wrists were chafed, red, and extremely sore, but not cuffed. He couldn't remember what happened to him after the beatings. With a groan, Terry tried again to move, and this time managed to roll slowly onto his back. That's when he saw the cuts of different degrees and the blood. It was then what he had endured came back to him. The different size knives piercing his body repeatedly. His noises of pain ignored as the Major kept stabbing him.

As he stared at the single bulb hanging from the ceiling, Terry inwardly congratulated himself. He had not talked despite what was done to him. He was determined to keep quiet no matter what. He began to suspect he might not survive being a prisoner of the Gestapo. If that was true, he refused to take Hogan and the men with him. He replaced his pain with thoughts of Toller and Dray. He wondered if they were all right. A small smile appeared but was more of a grimace. But he considered not thinking about his pain to be a small victory.

* * *

Another twenty-four hours had passed. Hogan couldn't concentrate on his duties as Senior officer because all he could think about was Terry. He needed to take his mind off things for a while. After roll call this morning, Hogan ordered that nobody bother him unless there was word. He skipped breakfast, and closed himself inside his quarters leaving Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter seated at the table. They glanced at the closed door of the smaller room wondering what they could do to help. The only conclusion they came to is they had no idea what to do for their commanding officer. They decided the best thing they could do is give the Colonel space until they found out something.

"Mon Colonel is going crazy with worry," LeBeau said to the others.

"I agree," Kinch added. "I hate sitting around too. But what else can we do until we find out where they are."

"Well if you ask me…" Carter interjected. "We should be out there ourselves. I mean, no offense to the underground, but they haven't gotten any answers so far."

Newkirk lit a cigarette and took a drag. "Carter, Damien and his men are doing the bloody best they can. But I agree with you about one thing, mate."

"What's that?" Carter asked.

"We should be out there looking ourselves. Seems to me the more ruddy eyes out there lookin' the quicker we can find Lieutenant Carpenter and the others."

The sound of Hogan's door opening made them all turn and look as Hogan emerged with his coffee cup. The Colonel looked a bit gaunt from little sleep the last forty-eight hours. There were shadows forming under his eyes and he looked a bit disheveled although not enough to draw the attention of the Krauts. They waited as Hogan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mon Colonel, let me fix something for you to eat. You have not touched anything but coffee for two days. It would not do for you to become ill before we find them."

"I'm all right, LeBeau. I'm just not hungry. Fact is, I can't even think about food right now." He took a drink of the hot brew. Everybody's head turned toward the double bunk in the corner as the lower one rattled upward. The head of Private Rick Jensen appeared. "Addison, stand guard at the door. Let us know if we have company coming." Then Hogan and his team hurried toward the slightly out-of-breath Private who had run from the radio room. "What have you got for us, Private?"

"Colonel, Baker said Klink is making a phone call to General Burkhalter. Sounds important."

"Thanks, Jensen." Hogan waved for his men to join him in his quarters. Once inside, he quickly grabbed the coffee pot which doubled as a speaker and listening device.

"_What is it, Klink? And it better be important."_

"_Let me assure you it is, Herr General. In fact, when I tell you what has happened, you will know exactly how important. Then you will say Klink…"_

"_Klink, get to the point. I have a luncheon engagement and don't want to be late."_

"_Yes sir. Herr General, a Captain Bader from the Dusseldorf Gestapo came here two days ago and removed three prisoners, one of whom was an officer."_

"_What has Hogan done now to warrant the attention of the Dusseldorf Gestapo_?"

"_Oh, it was not Hogan. He took a Sergeant Dray; Corporal Toller, and Lieutenant Carpenter. They are prisoners who only arrived a little over a month ago."_

"_Hmmm. Dusseldorf Gestapo. Major Braun is the head there. A most efficient but highly unpleasant fellow. Why did he take these men?"_

"_He said he had a description of two men involved in the destruction of the synthetic oil plant. Lieutenant Carpenter bore a resemblance to one description, and Corporal Toller and Sergeant Dray were close enough for him to take both of them."_

"_Braun had no authority. Have you called him demanding he return the prisoners?"_

"_Herr General, I don't think Major Braun likes me at all. Although I have no idea why."_

"_I do, but that's for another conversation. Very well. I will call him and have the prisoners returned at once."_

"_Danke, Herr General. And may I say, sir, that with you handling the matter Major Braun will… yes, sir. Heil Hitler."_

Hogan pulled the plug from the coffee pot. He leaned toward the desk with both hands flat on the desk. He bowed his head and shook it slowly. Kinch noticed the Colonel looked pale.

"What's the matter, Colonel?" he asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Hogan turned his head toward Kinch. "You didn't hear Burkhalter? He said the Dusseldorf Gestapo and Major Braun."

"So?" asked a puzzled Newkirk with knitted eyebrows. "What's so special about this Major Braun? He's just another Kraut."

Hogan turned to face his men directly. "Just another Kraut? Major Braun makes Hochstetter look like a sweetheart."

"What d'ya mean, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"I don't know much about this Major Braun. From what I've been told, he is cruel and sadistic. He doesn't just torture prisoners like Hochstetter. He starts out that way, and if he doesn't get anywhere with normal means, he uh…he uses a special technique guaranteed to make a prisoner break or wish for death."

The men exchanged looks, then turned back to their commanding officer. "What kind of special technique you talkin' about, Gov'nor?"

"The worst," replied the Colonel sitting on the edge of his desk, arms wrapped around himself. "I've been told he's uh, into filleting."

Newkirk still appeared puzzled. He saw Kinch's jaw drop and eyes widen.

"Mon Dieu," LeBeau muttered in horror.

"What? I still don't get it. What's filleting got to do with…oh bloody hell!" Newkirk muttered as the realization hit him. He was horrified.

Carter was the only one still confused. "Well, I still don't get it. What does he do?"

"I'll explain it to you later," Newkirk told him. Sometimes he envied Carter's innocence and naivety.

Hogan stared at a spot on the far wall. "Kinch, contact the underground. Tell 'em what we've found out. And tell them to forget the Hammelburg Gestapo, and get in touch with their contacts in Dusseldorf. We're gonna need information if we're gonna get Terry and the others away from Braun."

"Right away, Colonel." Kinch hurried out of the small room.

"Gov'nor, we've got to get those men away from that bleedin' bastard."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hogan turned his head toward the Englander. "Right now we have to hope Burkhalter can free them. He's a General. He should be able to throw his weight around, literally and figuratively, and have them brought back. If he can't, I don't know what we can do even with help from the Dusseldorf underground."

"Colonel, you can't mean if Burkhalter fails we're just gonna leave 'em there."

"I've been told Braun trusts nobody, not even his own people. He double-checks everything he receives about a prisoner, written or in person. If he even _suspects_ the information is phony, he ignores it. If he's suspicious of the person who brings it, he has them executed on the spot."

"Blimey. Can't we do something, sir? I mean, we got to Berlin to bring Robin Hood back here. We can get to Dusseldorf."(2)

"We only got to Berlin because Morrison took us there. We can't do that with Braun. He is too suspicious to be fooled like Hochstetter. Also, Braun is his own authority." He let out a deep breath. "For once I hope Burkhalter can get them out, and I hate to rely on a Kraut for anything."

"You're out of your bleedin' head…sir," Newkirk hesitated seeing Hogan's stare. "We can't leave 'em there with that ruddy bastard. There must be something we can do if Burkhalter can't yank 'em outta there."

Hogan's expression gave Newkirk the answer to his question.

* * *

Braun sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair, fingers pyramided in front of him. He thought about the Lieutenant. He suspected the Lieutenant of hiding something although he didn't know what. A slow evil smirk appeared on his face. Slow torture was an efficient way to get answers.

The ringing of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He straightened in his chair, and picked up the receiver. "Major Braun speaking. Ah, Guten Tag, General Burkhalter. How can I be of service to you this afternoon?" Braun smirked hearing the General's voice. He found Burkhalter an amusing fat clown. In addition, the man liked to throw his weight around by telling people he was close friends with Himmler. He knew why the man called.

"Major, it has come to my attention you removed three prisoners from Stalag 13 in connection with the sabotage of the synthetic plant."

"That is correct. I had a description of two men from a dying witness. Lieutenant Carpenter fits one description exactly. The other two fit the other description. Until I find out which one, I took them both."

"Major, you had no written authorization to remove those prisoners. They are the property of the Luftwaffe. I suggest you return them to Stalag 13 at once."

"And I am the Gestapo. That gives me the right to question anybody I wish without permission."

"As I said Major. You have no written authorization."

Braun chuckled. "And if I should refuse to return them?"

"Then I will have no choice but to call my dear friend Reichsfuhrer Himmler. And he, in turn, will call you."

Braun could picture the Cheshire cat smirk on the General's face and nearly burst out laughing at the image. "If you insist, Herr General. And when the Reichsfuhrer contacts me, I will discuss the matter with him. I assure you he will see things my way. Heil Hitler." He hung up the phone before Burkhalter could respond and smirked. He would return the prisoners to Stalag 13 when he was satisfied they had nothing to do with the sabotage. Even if they were only bodies.

* * *

(1) Translated means only a dead American is a good American.

(2) Bad Day in Berlin, Season 4.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Braun thought about Burkhalter for a minute. That was the most time he decided to waste on the unimportant Luftwaffe officer. He had more important things on his agenda which required his attention. The threat by the large General did not improve his mood one bit. In fact, it made his mood worse. He straightened up in his chair and picked up the receiver. "Get me Sergeant Schafer and be quick about it." Nobody ordered or threatened him, especially an overweight Luftwaffe General.

"Sergeant Schafer here, Mein Herr."

"Sergeant, I wish to interrogate a prisoner named Toller in his cell. You will see to it he is ready."

"Do you wish him to be hung from the wall, Herr Major?"

"Nein. Tied to a chair will do. I will be there shortly. Heil Hitler." Braun hung up before Schafer could reply. He opened a lower desk drawer, and removed the bag containing his knives, then got to his feet. He didn't know if he would use them right now, it depended how the interrogation went. But he always liked to be prepared. With a smirk, he left his office.

Corporal Toller was seated on the hard mattress staring around the dismal, chilly cell in which he was confined. Right now he preferred the barracks of Stalag 13 and wished he was there. His mind turned to Sergeant Dray and Lieutenant Carpenter. He had not seen or heard from either of them since their incarceration, and wondered if they were still alive. He ran his hands down his face before leaning back and crossing his arms. His stomach rumbled from hunger reminding him he had not eaten since before his arrest. Was it the Gestapo's intent to starve him to death? Starvation was an ugly way to die. The sound of footsteps nearing his cell caught his attention.

A Gestapo Sergeant, accompanied by two guards; one with an automatic weapon, the other holding a wooden chair and a length of rope, stood outside his cell door. The Sergeant unlocked the iron door and pulled it open allowing the others to enter. He pulled his own weapon from its holster.

"On your feet, Schwein," he ordered coldly.

Toller hesitated watching the guard holding the chair and rope sit the chair in the middle of the cell. The guard stood at a short distance waiting and holding the rope. He glared at Toller who remained seated.

Schafer approached Toller, roughly seized the front of the Corporal's shirt, and yanked him to his feet. "I said on your feet, Schwein! Do as your told!"

"All right," Toller replied trying to stay calm. He yanked Schafer's hands away. "No need to get rough." He sat down in the wooden chair watching the other guard with the automatic weapon standing beside the open door. At once, the guard with the rope tied his arms and body to the chair so tightly he found it hard to breathe. "Am I gonna have company or something?"

Schafer smirked. "You will soon find out soon, Dreckschwein."(1) His words chilled Toller to the bone.

At that moment, an impressive looking man carrying a bag entered the cell. This man sent a greater chill through Toller than any words. In fact, he felt he was staring at the devil himself, and swallowed the lump in his throat. The man approached the worn wooden table and lay the bag on it before turning away and approaching him, hands behind his back.

"I am Major Braun. You are Corporal Michael Toller, correct?" the devil asked.

"Toller. Michael. Corporal. Serial number 0412959."

The devil chuckled as he paced back and forth in front of him. Tell me, Corporal Toller, who was with you at the plant you destroyed?"

"Toller. Michael. Corporal. Serial number 0412959."

Without warning, Toller received a vicious backhand across the face causing stars to appear.

"Don't play games with me, Schwein. I want to know who helped you destroy the synthetic oil plant outside Hammelburg."

After he rotated his jaw to make sure it still worked, Toller glared at the man. "Drop dead!" he hissed.

Braun chuckled. "Your Lieutenant Carpenter was as stubborn as you are. But he eventually told me everything after one of my more creative sessions."

Toller's eyes narrowed. He wondered what this man had done to the Lieutenant. But not once did he believe Carpenter broke. The Gestapo were known for their lies.

"You're a liar!" Toller shouted. His response resulted in a blow to his jaw from the guard who had tied him to the chair. His head snapped backward and fell forward. He shook his head, glared for a minute at the guard, and turned back to Braun.

"Now Corporal, I understand you're upset finding out one of your own talked. But surely you can understand why. The Lieutenant broke at the first sign of pain. Then again, the pain he felt from the beatings was nothing compared to the pain from my more intense session."

"I don't…believe you. The Lieutenant would not break no matter what you did to him."

"Everybody has a breaking point, Corporal."

"Not Lieutenant Carpenter."

Braun's face darkened. These Americans were unbelievably stupid and hardheaded. He nodded at the guard near the chair.

That guard descended on Toller viciously beating him until the Corporal bleed from nearly everywhere on his face and upper torso. After ten minutes, Braun gestured for him to stop. He approached Toller who looked dazed from the beating.

Toller grimaced as he tried to breathe and felt one or two of his ribs were at least cracked, if not broken. His head lolled to the side. But he felt somebody seize his hair and jerk his head back so he could look into the devil's eyes.

"This is a taste of what will happen to you if you don't talk, Corporal," Braun explained. "I told you your Lieutenant told me everything. But he passed out before he told me the names of his accomplices. You will give me those names."

Toller reached back into the recesses of his mouth, and spat in Braun's face. That act of defiance caused the guard who had earlier beat him to pounce on him again with another beating more vicious than the first. How dare this American insult a Gestapo Major.

"Stop!" Braun demanded after wiping the spittle from his face. The guard stepped back. Braun, seething, grabbed Toller's jaw, holding the man's head still. One of the Corporal's eyes was beginning to swell shut and he appeared barely conscious. "I will have to teach you respect for the Gestapo." Shoving Toller's head away, Braun walked over to the table and untied the string around the bag. He unfurled it to show his pride and joy. He picked up the first one, turned, and approached the Corporal. He looked at the guard and smiled evilly. "Hold his head still."

The guard wrapped an arm around Toller's throat and with his other hand, grabbed him by the hair holding his head still. Braun placed the tip of his knife on the man's cheek under the right eye which was swelling shut.

Toller's scream echoed in the small cell and the empty hallway.

* * *

In barracks two, Hogan ran both hands down his face as he sat at his desk. He needed to be doing something. The longer the men were in Braun's hands, the less likely they will be alive by the time they got them back. He was more concerned for his godson though. He knew how the Gestapo was when they had an officer in their hands. For all he knew, Toller and Dray might still be alive, and Terry could be dead.

_No. I can't think that_. _I can't let myself go there. He's not dead. And we will get them back. Once we do, they will recover, and will be sent to London._ Hogan laid both arms on top of the desk, and rested his forehead on top of his arms. _What was I thinking?_

A knock on his door made him raise his head. "Come in," he ordered straightening up on his seat. The door opened and Kinch walked in quietly. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing yet, Colonel. Sorry." The radioman's eyes showed the concern he felt for the three men, and for his commanding officer. "Colonel, I know you're worried because of Braun. We all are. But it hasn't been that long since we got word to Damien about Dusseldorf. And he did say he will leave two men to keep an eye on Hammelburg Gestapo just in case. He just hasn't heard anything from his contacts in Dusseldorf yet."

Hogan stared at his folded hands on top of his desk. "I know, Kinch, I know. I guess I need something. This sitting around is getting to me." He massaged his forehead as a pounding headache had begun. "Also, I don't know what I'm going to tell General Carpenter if the worse case scenario should happen."

"I know it's hard, Colonel. But try to think positive and believe we'll get them back."

Hogan, his hand resting on his forehead, turned his head in Kinch's direction. A small smile appeared. "I'll try. But every moment they're with Braun, makes it harder and harder. But I promise you I'll try."

Kinch let a small smile appear. "I better get back below, sir. Segal's good, but I want to monitor the radio until we get the men back. It's nothing against Segal, but I need the distraction."

Hogan waved a hand in his direction dismissively. "No need to explain. I understand."

Kinch turned, started toward the door, and gripped the doorknob. He paused and looked back. "Colonel, you haven't eaten in two days and you look exhausted. Why don't you let LeBeau fix you something, then get some rest. We'll wake you when there's something to report. I promise."

"I'm not hungry, Kinch. And I can't sleep without seeing Terry and the others being tortured by Braun with his special technique."

Kinch sighed. "Begging the Colonel's pardon. You're gonna make yourself sick. And if you do, you won't be able to help Terry and the others once we get news. Please sir."

Hogan sighed wearily. "Fine. Tell LeBeau to fix me a sandwich and a cup of coffee."

Kinch grinned. "Then you'll lay down and get some rest afterwards?"

"Don't press your luck, Sergeant," he chuckled.

* * *

Braun stood back from Toller after he had wiped his second knife on the Corporal's trousers, and studied the unconscious man. His screams replayed in the Major's mind.

Toller's head hung limply with cuts to both cheeks from below his eyes to his jaw line. Another cut ran along his forehead from left to right, and another across his chin beneath his lower lip. Blood oozed from the cuts which weren't deep. The Corporal's shirt hung open and a swastika had been carved into his chest. The carving was deeper than the other cuts, and blood trickled down the man's chest.

"This man knows nothing," Braun announced with disgust as he tied the bag. "Sergeant Schafer…"

Schafer stepped forward and saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Major?"

"Untie the prisoner. However, he will remain here until I am completely satisfied he knows nothing."

"Jawohl. Any other orders?"

"Yes. When you are done here, we will visit the cell of Sergeant Dray and find out what he knows. I will wait outside."

"Jawohl, Mein Herr."

After Braun walked out of the cell with the guard holding the automatic weapon, Schafer and the remaining guard untied Toller. They shoved his body from the chair and onto the floor where he lay unmoving. The faint rising and falling of his chest showed he was still alive. They left the cell and Schafer locked the door before he and the guard joined the others.

* * *

Sergeant Walter Dray sat on his small bunk in his cell and had heard the screams. He shivered wondering who it had been. Corporal Toller? Lieutenant Carpenter? He hadn't seen either of them in two days. Could there be other prisoners here? Whoever screamed, the agony had to be excruciating. It made Dray cringe at the intense pain this person must be in to scream as he did. He wondered if he might scream that way when they came for him and he was tortured. Dray suspected he might not have long to wait when the sound of footsteps got closer. He stared nervously at the barred door to see a Gestapo officer accompanied by three guards appear in front of the bars and look at him. The officer had a smirk on his face which sent chills down the American's spine.

"Unlock the door, Sergeant," the officer ordered. As the German Sergeant unlocked the door, Dray studied the officer and noticed he wore the insignia of a Major. He began to wonder if this was Major Braun.

As the Germans entered the cell, Dray noticed one of the guards carried a chair and rope, both with drops of fresh blood on them. That guard put the chair on the floor and waited.

"I am Major Braun, Sergeant Dray. I apologize for not visiting you sooner," Braun said sarcastically.

Dray swallowed hard. "I didn't mind."

Braun smiled deviously. "How nice that you have a sense of humor. Let's see how amusing you really are. Have a seat in the chair, bitte."

Dray looked at the chair and back at Braun. "I prefer to stay where I am."

Braun chuckled before nodding at the guard near the chair. The guard, a Sergeant, roughly grabbed a handful of Dray's shirt and jerked the man to his feet before dropping him on the wooden chair. The guard proceeded to tie Dray up as he had Toller before standing back a step or two.

Dray looked up at Braun. "Where's Lieutenant Carpenter and Corporal Toller?"

"I might be more concerned about my own wellbeing if I were you," Braun explained as he walked towards the table and lay down his bag. His reply told Dray at least Carpenter and Toller were still alive. The Major turned back to face his prisoner. "Now, you and I are going to have a nice long talk."

"First answer my question. Where's Lieutenant Carpenter and Corporal Toller?"

"They are resting," Braun replied with a smirk. "Their interrogations were, shall we say, a bit intense and somewhat exhausting."

"The blood drops on this chair and rope are fresh. What did you do to them?"

"I am not here to answer your questions. Now, you are going to tell me who was with you when you destroyed the plant outside Hammelburg."

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

"That's not what I asked, Sergeant." Braun's eyes hardened. "I want the names of your accomplices who helped you destroy the synthetic oil plant."

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

Braun shook his head. "You Americans are always so difficult. Since you want to be difficult, I will be glad to oblige you." He nodded to his Sergeant, turned, and took a few steps away.

The guard's fist connected with Dray's jaw and stomach over and over until Dray heard a crack, realizing a rib had been broken, or was at least cracked. Blood ran down his chin. After a few minutes Braun gestured for him to stop. As the guard stepped back, the Major came closer. "That is a taste of what you will experience if you don't answer my questions. Or if you persist in refusing to answer my questions, I will be forced to make things unpleasant for you."

Dray coughed and nearly choked on the blood from the cut inside his mouth. He spit the blood out onto the floor and glared up into Braun's face. "Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

"Sergeant. I think I should inform you that Corporal Toller and Lieutenant Carpenter told me everything before they died. If you want, I can show you their bodies before…."

"Liar!" Dray shouted despite his split lips. "I don't believe you! Neither of them would tell you a damn thing!" He didn't respond to the possibility that the others might be dead and he was now alone.

Braun shook his head and motioned to the Sergeant again. Without warning, the German reached out a large bloodied hand, gripped Dray by the throat, and squeezed. Dray made wheezing noises when his air supply was cut. The grip tightened around his throat. He couldn't breathe. The vision around the edges of his eyes became dark and fuzzy. Suddenly the pressure around his throat was gone. Dray coughed several times as he struggled to get air back into his lungs. But the possible cracked or broken rib made taking deep breaths difficult. Hunched over in his chair, Dray painfully lifted his head and glared at Braun again.

"Bastard," he muttered shakily; Braun chuckled.

"I will ask you one more time, Sergeant. Who were your accomplices? Who ordered you to destroy the plant?"

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514," Dray whispered in defiance.

"_Fool!" _Braun hissed. He turned and walked toward the table knowing Dray's eyes were following him. The Major untied the string and unrolled the bag. Glancing back over his shoulder, he smiled evilly at Dray and stepped aside so the American could see the knives. Braun held up the smaller knife and examined it carefully before turning back to the prisoner. He walked toward the prisoner and saw the fear in the man's eyes which were on the blade. "Now Sergeant, shall we begin again?" he asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Dray. Walt…" Dray began to repeat before suddenly hissing with pain as the blade made contact with his flesh just below the ribcage.

* * *

Kinch had been below in the radio room having relieved Segal over an hour ago. The other man did not object when Kinch told him he was relieving him. He understood and didn't question the Staff Sergeant. Instead, he went to another part of the tunnels to see if he could help with something. Now alone, Kinch struggled to concentrate on the magazine in front of him, and found he had been reading the same line over and over for nearly thirty minutes. He tossed the magazine on the floor in anger when the radio suddenly came to life. Adjusting his headset, Kinch snatched up a pencil and his pad and began to copy the message as a deep frown appeared on his face. _Colonel Hogan is not going to like this, _he told himself as he continued writing.

* * *

(1) Dreckschwein means filthy pig. Thanks to Pen-or-Sword for the translation.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I am using Bluebird aka Gestapo Captain Fritz Fuchs, with permission from his creator, Jennaya.**

**Chapter 26**

Hogan emptied his coffee cup after wolfing down his sandwich, not realizing how hungry he was. He left his quarters, walked to the potbelly stove, and grabbed the coffeepot. Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk were playing a game of gin rummy, or at least pretending to play. LeBeau glanced up as Hogan refilled his cup.

"How are you holding up, mon Colonel?"

Hogan put the coffeepot back on the stove, looked around, and saw the three men staring at him. He took a drink of coffee before he walked over to the table. "I'm fine," he said wearily. "Before I forget, thanks for the sandwich and coffee, LeBeau."

LeBeau smiled affectionately at his commanding officer. "You are welcome, mon Colonel."

"So, who's winning?" Hogan asked, not really interested.

"Who do you think?" asked Carter tossing his cards down on the table. Hogan smiled faintly with a glance at the Englander.

"Using your special deck again, Newkirk?"

The Englander grinned as he looked at his commanding officer, a twinkle in his green eyes. "No, sir. Carter's just a lousy gin player."

"I am not," Carter replied somewhat indignant.

"My, we are a bit touchy, aren't we?" Newkirk replied with a smirk. Hogan was forced to grin at the exchange between the two best friends.

The lower bunk in the corner of the room suddenly rattled upward catching everybody's attention. Hogan's heart stopped, wondering if this was the moment for which he had been waiting. The men watched Kinch's head appear from below the bed frame, and waited for him to step into the room. Seeing Kinch's face, Hogan's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Just received a message from White Rose, Colonel. She heard from the Dusseldorf underground. There is no sign Terry and the others are prisoners of Major Braun." The color drained from Hogan's face. As if in slow motion, the Colonel sat his coffee cup on the table. He collapsed on the bench beside Carter, covered his face with one hand, and closed his eyes.

"Is she sure?" the Colonel asked keeping his eyes closed.

"Yes, sir. But the Dusseldorf underground will keep watching in case something changes."

Hogan felt as if somebody had stuck a fork in him and let the air out. "I don't know where to look next," he murmured. "Braun is either keeping a tight lid on things so nobody can take the prisoners from him. Or this Captain Bader took them someplace else." Hogan forced himself to his feet and marched to the door of the barracks.

"Where are you going, mon Colonel?"

"To talk Klink into calling Burkhalter, and if necessary, calling Braun himself." Hogan slammed the door behind him after he left.

The men exchanged concerned looks. "Mon Colonel is going to have a breakdown if he doesn't find out where they are soon," LeBeau explained sadly. "It is so hard to see him this way."

"I have no idea what we're gonna do if we can't find 'em anywhere," Carter added.

"Don't think that way, Andrew," Newkirk chastised the young Sergeant. "We're gonna find 'em no matter how bleedin' long it takes. And we're gonna bring 'em back alive."

Kinch sat down on the bench beside Newkirk. "I hope you're right, Newkirk. Because if we don't, or the worse happens, I don't even want to think how the Colonel will react." The other three remained silent, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

Hogan barged into the Kommandantur, not stopping to flirt with Hilda who sat at her desk. It wasn't that he didn't want to flirt with the woman. He had more important things to do. He opened the door to Klink's office and walked in without knocking. He let the door slam shut behind him. The Kommandant jumped at the intrusion and looked up, annoyed at the interruption of his paperwork. He frowned seeing the American.

"Hogan, what are you doing here? Get out! _Out!" _Klink ordered with a wave of his hand.

"Not until you do something for me, Kommandant."

"I don't do favors for prisoners. Now get out." He returned to his paperwork. Not to be ignored, Hogan snatched the pen from Klink's hand and slammed it down on the desk. He leaned on the desk with palms flat, and brought his face close to Klink's. Annoyed, Klink stared hard at the American.

"Can't you see I am trying to get this paperwork done? Now get out!"

"I want you to call General Burkhalter." Hogan said ignoring Klink's outburst. He saw the man pale.

"And why should I call General Burkhalter for you?"

"To find out if he's gotten Lieutenant Carpenter and the others away from the Dusseldorf Gestapo yet."

"Hogan, General Burkhalter does not take orders from prisoners and neither do I. Now go away."

Hogan picked up the receiver of the desk phone and held it out to Klink. "Call him." The expression on Hogan's face told Klink he wasn't joking and was serious. "Call him or I'll tell Burkhalter you want to ask for Gertrude's hand in marriage." The Kommandant shriveled before his eyes.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me.

Klink took the receiver and pressed it to his ear. "Fraulein Hilda? Get me General Burkhalter's office. Priority call." Klink looked up at Hogan. "You better not be setting me up to make a fool of myself, Hogan. Because if you are I promise you…ahhh, General Burkhalter. This is Kommandant Klink. Klink, sir. Why am I calling? Yes, sir. I was wondering what happened with your phone call with Major Braun in Dusseldorf Gestapo." The fake smile on Klink's face changed into a frown. "Oh. Major Braun refuses to send them back." He looked at the American. "He dares you to contact Reichsfuhrer Himmler. Yes, sir. I understand, sir." He chuckled nervously. "Well, sir…if they're not coming back, they're not coming back. And may I say, sir, that I appreciate everything you have….yes, sir. Heil Hitler." Klink hung up the phone with a frown on his face.

"Burkhalter didn't have any luck, did he?" Hogan's eyebrows knitted together.

"No," Klink replied chewing on his thumbnail, elbows on the desk. "And I seriously doubt they'll be coming back. Now go away and let me get back to work."

"No. Not until you make one more phone call."

"Who is it this time? The Fuhrer?"

"Close," Hogan replied. "Major Braun." Klink's jaw dropped and his blue eyes widened in shock.

"You want me to…are you crazy, Hogan? I can't call the head of the Dusseldorf Gestapo and order him to return the prisoners."

"Surely you aren't afraid of a Major, sir?"

"No," Klink lied. "I'm not afraid. It's that Major Braun…well…he's Gestapo. You don't tell the Gestapo what to do."

"I don't believe it. The Iron Colonel is afraid of a lowly Major."

"I'm not afraid. It's just that…well, I'm busy."

"Colonel Klink, nobody would dare say no to the Iron Colonel. You have more guts than anybody; even General Burkhalter. More guts than the Fuhrer even." Hogan saw Klink's expression change and his chest swell with pride at the compliments. It was then the American knew he had the man hooked. "But if you're afraid…"

Klink glared at his American counterpart. "Me? Afraid? I'm not afraid." The Kommandant picked up the receiver again with more courage than he felt. "Connect me with Major Braun at Dusseldorf Gestapo." Covering the mouthpiece, Klink stared at Hogan. "I'll show you who's afraid." He uncovered the mouthpiece. "Hello? Major Braun? This is Kommandant Klink of Stalag 13." A fake smile appeared. "Klink, sir. Why am I calling? Well, sir…I'm inquiring when I might get my three prisoners back. Yes, sir. The three Captain Bader removed from here two days ago." Klink shuddered. "No, sir. I'm not questioning the authority of the Gestapo. You did?" He smiled again. "When did you release them? No, sir. I'm not doubting your word. Yes, sir. Auf Wiedersehen. Heil Hitler." Klink hung up the phone.

"He says he sent the prisoners back here?" Hogan asked skeptically.

Klink avoided looking in Hogan's face. "Yes. Thirty minutes ago. He says he didn't believe they were connected to the sabotage of the synthetic oil plant."

Hogan's eyes narrowed and his face turned a deep shade of crimson. "And you believed him?"

"Why shouldn't I? I made the phone calls you wanted. Now get out or I'll have you thrown out." He offered Hogan a salute which Hogan returned sloppily. The American stormed out of the office totally dissatisfied. He didn't believe a word of what Braun had told Klink. He believed Braun was lying. Lying allowed him to keep the prisoners. Again he passed by Hilda and stormed out of the Kommandantur.

Outside, Hogan began to think what to do next. His options were limited. He knew he couldn't go storming into Gestapo headquarters in Dusseldorf. Braun was not Hochstetter, and couldn't be as easily fooled. He couldn't be sure the men were in Gestapo headquarters in Dusseldorf. From Hogan's dealings with a contact in Hammelburg Gestapo, the Gestapo had safe houses where they sometimes took prisoners. If the underground in Dusseldorf reported no movement in Gestapo headquarters, was it possible the prisoners were taken to one of these safe houses? There was one way to find out.

Hogan slammed the door of the barracks after he entered to find his team still seated at the table.

"My quarters…now," Hogan said before the others jumped up from the table and followed the Colonel into his quarters and closed the door. Hogan started pacing once the men had seated themselves. He stuffed his hands in his back pants pockets.

"Was ole Klink any help, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Not really," Hogan replied. "Burkhalter had no luck with Braun. Then I convinced Klink to call Braun. And Braun told him he released the prisoners thirty minutes ago."

The men exchanged confused looks then looked at Hogan. "I don't get it. That's good news, isn't it, sir?" Carter asked, confused.

Hogan paused. "Yeah, it would be, Carter. If it was true."

"I don't understand, Colonel," Kinch began. "How do you know it isn't true?"

"Braun is an accomplished liar. He will lie so convincingly to anyone to get what he wants. Especially if he thinks somebody is trying to take something from him."

"Like prisoners, mon Colonel?"

"Especially prisoners," Hogan replied. He resumed pacing.

"So what do we do now, sir?" asked Newkirk.

Hogan let out a deep breath. He was angry and worried. "We don't have many options left. If this Captain Bader took the men to one of the Gestapo safe houses in Dusseldorf, we need to find which one." He stopped pacing and looked at his radioman. "Kinch, get in touch with Bluebird. Explain to him what's happened. Tell him we need to know if there's been any movement in a Gestapo safe house in Dusseldorf. And I need a quick response."

"Understood," Kinch replied. "Colonel, how much do you want me to tell Bluebird about Terry?"

Hogan exhaled through his nose as he thought for a few minutes. "He can know about Terry and me. Get going." Kinch nodded and hurried from the room. After he had left, the Colonel looked at his other three remaining men. "Fellas, that's it for now. I need to think. Until we hear something from Bluebird there's nothing we can do anyway."

The three men reluctantly got to their feet. As they reached the door, Newkirk's hand gripped the doorknob, then paused. He turned and looked back at the Colonel. "Gov'nor, you sure you don't want us to hang around till Kinch comes back with news? I mean, there might be something we can do to take your mind off things until we know something."

A weak smile showed on Hogan's face. "Thanks, Newkirk. But I need to be alone. I need to come up with a plan once we find out where they're holding the men."

"We will get them back alive. You must believe it will happen, mon Colonel."

"Thanks, LeBeau."

That said, the three men quietly walked out of the room leaving Hogan alone. The Colonel resumed his pacing.

* * *

Braun smiled as he stared at the telephone on his desk. Imagine the nerve of that idiot Klink insisting he return the prisoners to him at once. The man was a complete and utterly incompetent fool. He suspected he and Burkhalter plotted together to try and convince him to return the prisoners. So, he merely told Klink what he wanted to hear. _Yes, Klink. You are definitely the moron I always believed you to be._

His thoughts turned to the unconscious, bloody Sergeant Dray he had left lying on the floor of his cell. He was positive the Sergeant could tell him nothing despite the screaming the man did as Braun sliced his body. The man was definitely a weakling. Crying like a baby as the Major sliced his face and chest. No. The Major now believed the Lieutenant held the answers he wanted. He would concentrate solely on him. He would use the others against the Lieutenant if need be. Braun snorted thinking about Dray and Toller. A German soldier would never cry like a baby in the face of torture. A German soldier would handle torture like a man. Tears, to Braun, were a sign of weakness. And he had no tolerance for weakness in prisoners or Germans.

With a weary sigh, Braun decided tomorrow was another day. He would begin the interrogation again tomorrow. And he would get his confession. And nobody would, or could, stop him.

* * *

"Papa Bear to Bluebird. Papa Bear to Bluebird. Come in Bluebird." Kinch waited a few seconds before repeating himself. "Papa Bear to Bluebird. Papa Bear to Bluebird. Come in Bluebird."

"This is Bluebird," replied the voice of their friend and Ally, Captain Fritz Fuchs, Hochstetter's second-in-command. "Good to hear from you, Papa Bear. How can I be of service?"

"Papa Bear needs your help in a matter of the utmost urgency."

"How can I help?"

"Major Braun has removed three prisoners; one being an officer. We need your help getting them back."

"An officer? Is the officer Papa Bear?" There was a touch of deep concern in Fuchs' voice.

"No. Papa Bear is safe. It is three of his cubs; one of whom is important to Papa Bear."

"May I ask what makes this one cub important?"

"Lieutenant Carpenter is Papa Bear's godson."

There was a minute of silence. "Why did Braun have these men removed?"

"They helped in the destruction of the synthetic oil plant recently. A dying witness gave their descriptions to the Gestapo."

"If these men are in the hands of Braun, they could already be dead. The Major is not a patient man. He will torture them mercilessly, sadistically, and often. But I may have a way to get them out."

Kinch's eyes narrowed as for the first time, he felt there was a ray of hope. "How do you propose to do that?"

"Major Braun will not listen to me. But he is very close friends with Major Hochstetter." Kinch's eyebrows arched in surprise hearing that. "Perhaps if Major Hochstetter were to go to Dusseldorf and ask for these three men to be turned over to him, Braun would do it as a favor to him."

"You think he'll go for it?"

"He will if he thinks Braun has Papa Bear himself. We all know Major Hochstetter believes nobody should take credit for catching Papa Bear except him."

"Good thinking."

There's just one problem."

"What is that, Bluebird?"

"Major Hochstetter is out of the office, and is unreachable for another forty-eight hours."

Hearing this, Kinch's mouth went dry, and he felt he would be sick as a chill traveled down his spine. _Oh God. In forty-eight hours will we be bringing back the men? Or bringing back their bodies?_

"Do what you can, Bluebird. Papa Bear out." Kinch disconnected the call and after removing the headset, tossed it on the table.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

The following morning, Braun appeared in his office early, eager to begin the interrogation. Today he promised himself to get his confession from Lieutenant Carpenter or else. He picked up the phone, and pressed the receiver to his ear. "Sergeant Schafer? Have Lieutenant Carpenter brought to the interrogation room. I wish to begin interrogating him at once." After giving the Sergeant extra orders, he replaced the receiver. He took his bag from the lower drawer, got to his feet, and left the office. He believed the Lieutenant would break and confess everything, including the identity of Papa Bear. And that information he would share with his friend, Wolfgang Hochstetter. Then together they can arrest Hogan, and remove him from Stalag 13. Hochstetter could then share in Hogan's torture and long sought after confession.

* * *

When Sergeant Schafer and three guards, two with automatic weapons, arrived at Terry's cell, the officer still lay on his back on the floor. He had slept there throughout the night. He was in too much pain to try to reach the cot. Carpenter struggled to turn and see who came in when he heard the door open. Terry recognized Schafer, whimpered, and looked away. He knew what their appearance in his cell meant. Time for another session with Major Braun.

"On your feet, Schwein," the Sergeant ordered. Carpenter still lay on the floor where he had been dumped earlier. He was in too much pain and too weak to move. He believed Braun was suspicious of Hogan and on a fishing expedition for information with which to arrest the Colonel and the others. He was positive he was going to die. He thought fondly of Hogan and his father. He was glad his mother had died, and couldn't see him now. Terry coughed, the pain from that action making him squeeze his good eye tightly shut.

Terry struggled to turn onto his side and get to his feet, but it was slow going. He whimpered in pain when a foot connected with his lower back. "I _said_ on your feet," Schafer demanded. Terry was weak; his body cramped from hunger and dehydration. He began to have a better understanding of what Hogan had gone through at the transit camp. Carpenter dragged himself to his knees and staggered to his feet. And although in great pain, he managed to stand erect and face his tormentors. Schafer removed his sidearm and pointed it at Terry's head. "Cuff him," he ordered one of the guards. The guard closest to him removed his handcuffs from his belt. He jerked Terry's arms roughly behind him, and clamped them painfully on his wrists. Schafer waved his weapon at the young Lieutenant. "Let's go," he added. Terry limped out the door and down the hallway.

* * *

Hogan stopped pacing when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he ordered. The door opened, and in walked Kinch, followed by the others. Carter, being the last to enter, closed the door behind him. "Did you reach Bluebird?" the Colonel asked looking at his radioman hopefully.

"Yes, sir. Turns out Braun is a close friend of Major Hochstetter. Bluebird believes he can convince him to have Braun release the prisoners to him. Especially if he thinks the officer in Braun's possession is you." For the first time since Terry and the others had been arrested, Hogan smiled at the news he received. The others began talking excitedly among themselves. But Hogan's good feeling changed when he looked in Kinch's eyes.

"There's something else isn't there?" he asked bringing the men's conversation to a halt.

"Yes, sir. Major Hochstetter is out of the office and unreachable for forty-eight hours. I'm sorry, Colonel."

With a sigh, Hogan wrapped his arms around himself. He shook his head sadly. Two more days. Who knows what might happen?

"Anything we can do, mon Colonel?"

Hogan sat on the edge of his desk. "There's nothing we can do right now. It's up to Bluebird, and unfortunately Hochstetter. And I hate relying on Hochstetter for anything."

* * *

When Braun entered the interrogation room, he found Terry chained to the wall. He took in the Lieutenant's current condition. The man was gaunt from starvation. His left eye swollen nearly shut, his right eye blackened. Scabs had begun to form on his upper and lower lips. Ugly black and purple bruises had formed on his face and chest. The blood had dried on his chest from the cuts. The Major smirked. "You don't look very good, Lieutenant." He walked over to the table, and placed his bag next to the item he ordered Schafer to get. "Do you now wish to cooperate with us?" he asked with his back still turned to the prisoner.

His head lolled to one side, Terry weakly lifted his head and look at Braun's back through his one good eye. He smirked painfully. "Go. To. Hell," he muttered as best he could with a dry throat. He saw the pitcher and glass on the table, and ran his tongue over his parched, dry lips. He was so thirsty for a drink of water.

Braun chuckled at the American's defiance as he turned away. "Just so you're aware, Lieutenant. Corporal Toller and Sergeant Dray have told me of their involvement in the sabotage. They also admitted you took part as well, and under orders from Papa Bear. Or should I say Colonel Hogan?" Braun smiled wickedly as he approached the prisoner.

Terry fought to keep his face neutral. If he reacted to the Major's use of Hogan's code-name, it would endanger his godfather. He stared at the man and remained quiet.

"So your refusal to answer my questions is for naught. And you will answer my questions, Lieutenant."

Terry smirked. "You are a lying son-of-a-bitch. They have no idea who this Papa Bear is, and neither do I."

Braun nodded to the guard standing with hands behind his back. The guard approached Carpenter and beat the officer mercilessly until ordered to stop. Terry groaned and swallowed hard. Every part of his body hurt. Wounds which had started developing scabs had reopened and started to bleed.

"Care to answer my questions now, Lieutenant?" Braun asked.

"Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial number 0871519." Terry's voice was raw and scratchy. His eyes shifted to the table and he stared at the pitcher with a hungry look.

Braun turned his head and looked at the pitcher and glass. He then glanced at Schafer. "Pour a glass of water for the Lieutenant, Sergeant."

"Jawohl, Mein Herr." Schafer filled the glass with cool, refreshing water, and brought it to the prisoner. He tilted the glass, brought it to Carpenter's lips, and allowed the man to drink greedily, spilling more than he drank. Carpenter coughed after draining the glass. The liquid felt good going down his parched throat. Schafer stepped back.

"Now Lieutenant. You've had a glass of water. But I can tell you want more." Braun crossed his arms across his chest. "You simply have to tell me Papa Bear's real name? Is it Colonel Hogan?"

Terry stared at Braun. "Carpenter. Terry. Lieutenant. Serial number 0871519." He smiled but it came out as more of a grimace." He saw Braun's face turn a deep shade of crimson, and eyes blaze with rage. Terry chuckled.

Braun marched to the table, grabbed his bag, and untied the string. He grabbed the first knife, held it up, and admired the blade. "You will tell me what I want to know I assure you." As he held the knife, the Major walked back toward the prisoner, and with force, drove the knife up to the hilt in Terry's thigh. The Lieutenant squeezed his eye shut and grimaced, but refused to cry out in pain. With effort, the Major pulled out the knife before placing its tip against Terry's stomach, and shoved the blade inside forcefully. He saw the prisoner's body react and smiled. He repeated cutting the prisoner in places different from the first time. He wanted his confession, and he wanted it now. After fifteen minutes, Braun stepped back and stared curiously at the prisoner.

Terry grimaced in agony. The tight rein he had on his emotions began to slip. He had no idea how much longer he could hold out. He wondered how Hogan had held on during the torture he dealt with at the transit camp. Blood ran down his thighs, chest, and arms. He lifted his head to stare hard at the Major.

"Bastard," he muttered painfully.

Braun chuckled. Although he had fun torturing this prisoner, he became eager to begin the next stage of the torture. "Are you ready to answer my questions now, Lieutenant? Or must I continue this unpleasantness?"

"Go. To. Hell." Terry could barely get the words out. The response he received was a vicious blow to the side of his face from the guard's fist. A crack was heard sending a wave of immense pain through Terry's lower jaw. The man's head lolled to the side, and his breathing became ragged.

With a sigh, Braun seized the prisoner by the hair and raised his head. With a look of disgust, he released his hold, and let loose a string of German vulgarities. The man had passed out. Braun looked at Schafer. "Come. We will leave the prisoner alone for an hour to recover before we begin again." He wiped his knife on Terry's bloodied trouser leg, he placed it on the table with the others and exited the room, followed by Schafer and the guards.

A few minutes after the others had left, Terry weakly lifted his head and tried to look around with the failing vision in his one good eye. He was bleeding from his mouth and his jaw was stiff. His face began to swell, and numbness was setting in, particularly his lower lip. He suspected his jaw was probably broken. Terry swore no matter what, he would protect Hogan and his men. "Help…me…" he murmured to no-one, slurring his words.

* * *

Hogan bolted upright on the lower bunk on which he had been laying. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His gut told him so, and he always listened to his gut. He rubbed the back of his neck, then ran both hands over his hair. Swinging his legs off the bunk, Hogan got to his feet. He felt Terry needed him, and depended on him to come for him. The Colonel began to pace again, both hands stuffed in his back pants pockets.

"Hang on Terry," he murmured quietly, not wanting to disturb the men in the other room. In fact, Hogan had to face the fact that it might be too late. And if true, he had no idea how to tell his godson's father he didn't protect the young man. General Carpenter had entrusted him with the life of his only child and he had failed, and miserably. Hogan's guilt became overwhelming. _No. I can't let myself believe he might be dead. I can't. He is alive somewhere and I'll find him. Just hang on, Terry. I'm gonna bring you and the others home and get you to London._ Hogan walked to the window in his quarters and opened it. He leaned against the frame and looked out, arms crossed across his chest. But instead of seeing prisoners in the compound, Terry's eyes stared back at him in an accusatory manner.

* * *

Braun re-entered the interrogation room followed by Schafer and the three guards. Carpenter was barely conscious, his breathing ragged, but managed to raise his head. The Major noticed the prisoner was bleeding from his mouth, and the lower part of his face was swollen. There was blood dripping from the newly inflicted cuts, but nothing he considered life-threatening. Braun showed no concern or interest in his prisoner's condition or injuries. He walked over to the table and examined his knives. Finally selecting one, Braun approached the prisoner.

"Now, let's start again, shall we?" he asked holding the knife in front of Terry's face. "Tell me about Papa Bear and how you destroyed the plant?"

Terry had lost track of the time. In fact, time didn't matter anymore to him. His lower jaw hurt so much he couldn't scream from the intense pain. He could only whimper in pain. He suspected several of his ribs were either cracked or broken now from the constant beatings. He believed his cheek bone had been broken as well. To better cope with the pain, Terry's mind went back to a happier time. A time when he, his dad, and Hogan were together. He recalled how the Colonel always found the time to spend with him as a child.

Suddenly the beatings and the cutting stopped, but Terry didn't care anymore. He hurt too much to care. His main goal now to protect Hogan and the operation.

"Sergeant, release the prisoner, and take him back to his cell," Braun hissed. "I will interrogate him again later." He wiped the blade on Terry's shirt and replacing it in his bag, tied the string around it. He looked back at the prisoner. "Next time we meet, Lieutenant, I will show you how I fillet a prisoner." Grabbing the bag and smiling diabolically, he stormed out of the room followed by the guards with the automatic weapons. That left Schafer and one guard. Schafer could tell his boss was in a foul mood. If it had been up to him, he'd put a bullet between the prisoner's eyes. But it wasn't up to him. In a sadistic way, he felt sorry for the prisoner. Schafer had been present when the Major filleted prisoners. Their screams still echoed in his head.

Fortunately for Carpenter, Braun did not come back for him. He didn't know why, nor did he care. He lay on the floor where he'd been dumped, holding his side, trying unsuccessfully to hold off the pain from cracked or broken ribs. The cigarette burns on his chest, abdomen, hands, and face, blistered and throbbed painfully. His head pounded fiercely, and he suspected he had a concussion. He felt dizzy and nauseous, probably from the concussion. He stared up at the bulb hanging from the ceiling. He was breathing blood into his lungs.(1) He believed he couldn't survive another meeting with Braun. And he knew what filleting was having gone fishing with his dad and Hogan as a child. A single tear rolled from the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry," he slurred and closed his eyes, letting the darkness swallow him completely.

* * *

The following day, Braun was busy with paperwork at his desk waiting for Sergeant Schafer to call and say Lieutenant Carpenter was ready for interrogation. The Major was puzzled what took so long, and decided to find out. As he reached for the receiver, the phone rang. Braun grabbed the receiver and pressed it against his ear.

"Major Braun here. Yes, Sergeant, what is the…_what?!_ What are you saying?"

"Herr Major, we need you in the cell block right away," Schafer said nervously knowing Braun would not take the news well.

"I'll be right there." He slammed down the receiver, cursed under his breath, bolted to his feet, and hurried from the office. He had no idea how long it took him to reach the cell block. But he hurried to Carpenter's cell where Schafer, and three guards, stood waiting. The Sergeant swallowed the lump in his throat at seeing his commanding officer approaching. "What happened, Sergeant?" Braun demanded as he brushed past Schafer, and into the cell. He stared, confused, at the body on the floor.

"He's dead, sir."

Braun's face had turned a deep crimson with rage. He swore under his breath, drew back his foot, and kicked Carpenter in the side. How _dare_ the prisoner die on him. Now he would never get his confession. He continued staring at the bloody, bruised, and battered body of Lieutenant Carpenter. The Lieutenant's face was gaunt, his khaki shirt had bloodstains and was in tatters, his trousers were bloodstained. His hair was uncombed and matted. The three days worth of stubble did nothing to improve the gauntness of his face. Braun removed the Lieutenant's dog tags. He would keep them as a reminder. He turned his harsh stare on his guards. "Remove that," he ordered, pointing to Carpenter's body.

The guards removed the Lieutenant's body to dispose of it in the usual manner of somebody who died while in custody. Alone with Schafer, Braun turned to the Sergeant, eyes boring a hole in the man. "I _asked_ you a question earlier, Sergeant. His injuries could not have been life-threatening."

"I…I don't understand either, Mein Herr," Schafer interrupted. "I came in here and found the Lieutenant lying on the floor. He did not respond when I ordered him to get to his feet. I…I then nudged him with my boot and he still didn't respond. I became concerned, and kneeling beside him, pressed two fingers against his throat. It was then I realized he was dead." Schafer swallowed nervously at Braun's expression. The man glared at him. The Sergeant wished the Major said something. The man's silence was more frightening than his outbursts.

Braun turned and left the cell without saying a word. He returned to his office and collapsed on the chair behind his desk. He stared at the dog tags in his hand and his anger grew. The Lieutenant had died before he got a confession. He thought of having Bader return to Stalag 13, and pulling Hogan out of the camp. But he had no proof of Hogan's involvement, just suspicion. Braun decided for now he would keep the other two prisoners until he decided what to do with them. He might find a use for them yet. But his mood went from bad to worse.

* * *

Captain Fuchs was so engrossed in his paperwork, the knock on his office door startled him. "Enter," he ordered. He looked up when the door opened and was surprised to see his boss, Major Hochstetter, enter and close the door. "Major, I did not expect you back until tomorrow sometime."

"My assignment concluded sooner than originally planned. I thought I would stop in and catch up on my paperwork," he explained as he sat wearily down in the chair in front of Fuchs' desk.

"Was your assignment successful?"

Hochstetter smiled wickedly. "Immensely." The smile on his face sickened the Captain.

Fuchs forced a smile in return. "I'm glad to hear it, sir."

Hochstetter crossed his legs and folded his arms. "So, what happened while I was gone? Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Fuchs let his concern show. "Jawohl, Major. Your friend, Major Braun, had three prisoners pulled from Stalag 13 and taken to Dusseldorf. One of them is an officer." He saw Hochstetter uncross his legs and plant both feet firmly on the floor. He sat up straight in the chair. Fuchs believed he had his boss's complete attention now.

"Tell me. Is the officer Hogan?" he demanded, hopeful. He needed to find out had Hogan been arrested. If he had, Hochstetter would insist he be present for the American's interrogation. He would also get a confession about other sabotage. He had heard about the destruction of the synthetic oil plant. He suspected Hogan had something to do with the sabotage. But being on assignment for his superiors, he couldn't arrest the annoying American himself.

"I don't know. I tried to find out. Those in Dusseldorf headquarters are being extremely close-mouthed about the arrests. But as you are a friend of Major Braun's, perhaps he will turn the prisoners over to you."

"Ja. I will call him right away. If he has arrested Hogan I want to be there for his interrogation and confession. Braun has, how would one say, an interesting method of interrogation of which I do not approve." Hochstetter never told Fuchs that Braun, early on, was suspicious of the Captain. He knew Braun was not beyond using his methods on other Gestapo of whom he was suspicious, or believed incompetent.

Fuchs feigned curiosity. "Oh? What type of method?"

"Tell me, Captain. Have you ever gone fishing with your father when you were a boy?"

"Of course. When David is older, I hope to take him fishing. But I'm afraid I don't see the connection." Fuchs didn't let on he knew about Braun's method of interrogation.

"Braun uses filleting as a means to try and obtain confessions from prisoners. But if he has Hogan, _I_ want to obtain his confession. I have waited too long for this. May I use your phone, Fritz?"

"Of course, Herr Major. But wouldn't it be better if you went to Dusseldorf personally, and brought the prisoners back to Hammelburg? That way, you will not have to worry about Major Braun getting carried away with his technique. He could end up killing or injuring Hogan making it impossible to get any useful information from him."

"I know. But I still think I should call him first, and find out if he arrested Hogan." Hochstetter reached out, grabbed the receiver, and placed it against his ear. But instead, he replaced the receiver, and looked at the Captain. "I think I will go to Dusseldorf instead. You make a valid point, Captain. Braun does get carried away at times. The man scares me with his enthusiasm with his knives. Knowing Braun and Hogan as I do, he will not show much patience with Hogan and his mouth. It is better if I go. I can bring Hogan back here, and question him myself."

* * *

(1) Most broken jaws are not fatal. But it can cut the inside of the mouth and then bleed, and someone could choke on the blood. You can also have a co-existing broken neck. Information courtesy of All-Experts.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

The hours which passed since the Lieutenant's death, had done nothing to improve the Major's mood. From the time he left the cell block, heading back to his office, those he came across scattered and got out of his way. Once he reached his office, Braun tossed the dog tags on his desk. He lay down on his couch, hoping to get a few hours sleep. When he awoke, he had to prepare his report for Berlin.

In another part of the building, Sergeant Schafer is in a foul mood also. The Major acted as if the Lieutenant's death had been his fault. Unfortunately, Schafer had been subjected to his commanding officer's wrath before whenever he didn't get what he wanted. But even he had to admit he had never seen the Major this angry. The Sergeant suspected every time the Major looked at the American's dog tags, it would fuel the his anger. All he could hope for is to avoid the Major for the next few days.

Several hours later, Braun's anger again emerged when he was awakened by a knocking on his door. "Come in," he growled as he sat up on his couch. The door opened, and Captain Bader hesitantly walked in and saluted smartly. What is it?" he asked harshly not returning the salute.

"Mein Herr, you have a visitor who wishes to speak with you," Bader explained.

"Who is this visitor?"

"Major Hochstetter, Herr Major. He says…"

"Never mind, Captain. Show him in at once." Braun got to his feet and returned to his desk. He stood and waited.

Bader opened the door and beckoned the visitor to enter. Hochstetter walked into the room. The two men greeted each other warmly. The Captain exchanged salutes with Braun and left the office, leaving the two friends alone.

"Wolfgang, how good to see you," Braun said, pulling away. "To what do I owe this visit, my friend?" He motioned to the chair in front of his desk and for Hochstetter to have a seat. As Hochstetter sat down, Braun opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a bottle of expensive French brandy and two glasses. He poured each of them a drink.

"Raban, perhaps you can answer a few questions." Hochstetter said as he and Braun raised their glasses in a salute to each other. Each man took a drink and smacked their lips. "Excellent brandy, my friend. Excellent."

"Glad you like it," Braun replied. "Now, what do you wish to ask me?"

"I heard about the synthetic oil plant outside Hammelburg being destroyed. I also understand you have pulled three prisoners, one of whom is an officer, from Stalag 13. Tell me, was the officer Colonel Hogan?"

Braun sighed. "Nein. It was a Lieutenant Carpenter, Corporal Toller, and Sergeant Dray. I have been interrogating them without success so far. Why do you ask?" He took another sip of his drink.

"Have any of the prisoners given up Hogan?" Hochstetter couldn't hide his anticipated enthusiasm.

"Nein. Hogan's name has not come up during our talks."

"That is most unfortunate. I am positive he is behind the destruction of the plant. Just like he is behind all the activity in the Hammelburg area. That man has been the bane of my existence since he arrived at Stalag 13," Hochstetter growled angrily. "How hopeful are you of getting one of the three prisoners to give us Hogan?" He saw Braun's expression change. "What is wrong?"

"Lieutenant Carpenter died this morning," he said picking up the dog tags from his desk. "He died before giving me a confession and naming Hogan." He handed Hochstetter Terry's tags. The Major took and examined them carefully. "You can return those to Stalag 13 and that imbecile Klink if you wish."

"Ja, I will. Danke." Hochstetter put the dog tags in his pocket. "What about the other two prisoners? Do you think one of them will give up Hogan?"

"They know nothing. But I suspect the Lieutenant was hiding something or protecting someone. But exactly what or who I have no idea, nor will I be able to find out now."

Hochstetter sighed wearily. "Too bad." He was too afraid of Braun to question anything he said, or to interrogate the others himself. One did not question Braun on anything. Hochstetter knew with his friend's methods, if he said the others knew nothing, who was he to question his word? "I hoped to finally have Hogan in my grasp. But once again he has escaped from me," he hissed.

Braun drained his glass, and poured another. "Wolfgang, you are an excellent investigator. I'm sure you will catch him one day. He will slip up eventually, and when he does, you will have him. I only ask when you catch the great Papa Bear, you invite me to his interrogation. And if you allow me, I will get you the confession you seek."

Hochstetter laughed as he and Braun clinked glasses. "It would be my pleasure." He drained his glass, and refused a refill. "I can't. I have to return to Hammelburg. I thought I would be returning with three prisoners so I brought four men with me in a truck."

"Nonsense," Braun replied refilling Hochstetter's glass. "You will join me as my guest for dinner. Then you will use my guest room for the night. I can make arrangements for your men for the night. That way you and your men can return to Hammelburg tomorrow fully rested."

"Ja, I would like that. I have been on special assignment for two days and only got back a few hours ago. Captain Fuchs informed me about the arrests, and I came straight out here, so I haven't had time for dinner."

"Then the matter is settled."

"Are you sure I will not inconvenience you?"

"Not at all, my friend. I have plenty of room in my home."

"Then I will be honored." Hochstetter replied with a smile.

Braun gripped his own glass with both hands and studied the dark liquid. "Wolfgang, now I have a question. Not that I don't appreciate a visit from my dear friend. But why are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you could have called and asked me if I had arrested Hogan. Instead, you drove all the way here."

Hochstetter looked down for a few minutes, embarrassed. He then lifted his head. "I owe you an apology, Raban."

"For what?"

"When I found out you had arrested three prisoners from Stalag 13, and one was an officer, I at once thought you had Hogan. I've been after him for so long…" he didn't finish.

"I understand. Better than you think. But I hope you realize if I had Hogan, I would have had you come here before I questioned the Schwein. I would make sure you got the credit for his confession."

"I know that. Danke. Again I apologize."

"Nothing to apologize for. I understand perfectly how you feel about this Stuck Scheibe."(1)

Hochstetter nodded and took a drink. "Danke, Raban." He looked at his friend curiously. "You said earlier the others know nothing. What will you do with them?"

Braun leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink. "I haven't decided yet. Probably send them back to Stalag 13. Why do you ask?"

"Well, if they are of no use to you, why don't you turn them over to me? I can return them to Stalag 13 for you, and inform the Kommandant of the Lieutenant's death. This will save you the trip and of having to put up with Klink."

"That can be arranged." Braun checked his watch. He finished his drink, and placed the empty glass on his desk. "No more talk of the amerikanisches Schwein. Let us go have dinner. This way we can visit longer."(2)

* * *

The following morning, Hochstetter was ready to leave Dusseldorf and head back to Hammelburg. In the back of the truck were Corporal Toller, and Sergeant Dray guarded by three of his four men. When the men had been brought to him, Hochstetter already understood they had been tortured and beaten. But nothing prepared him for when the two men were brought to him. Inwardly, the Gestapo agent cringed seeing the damage Braun had partially been responsible for himself. But he had always known his friend to be extremely brutal and sadistic.

Toller was holding his side probably because of cracked or broken ribs. His right eye was swollen shut. There were ugly bruises on his face along with burns probably from cigarettes. Hochstetter became sick seeing the cuts across the man's forehead, chin, and on his face below both eyes down to his jaw line. But far worse was the swastika carved into his chest which was beginning to scab over and was looking infected.

Dray didn't appear as bad off as Toller. He also held his side also indicating damage to his ribs. There were deep bruises on his throat which looked like they had been made by fingers. And cuts to his face and chest. Both men were noticeably limping, and both wore chains around their wrists and ankles.

As the men reached the truck, the guards shoved them in their backs, indicating they were to get in the truck. "Move! Mach Schnell!" one of them shouted. Corporal Toller slowly and with a bit of effort, climbed in the back of the truck first. One guard climbed in after him. Dray looked at Major Hochstetter. The Major saw the exhaustion in the man's eyes.

"Major, what about Lieutenant Carpenter? Is he coming with us?" he asked.

"No," was all Hochstetter said letting his fingers touch the pocket where the dog tags rested. "Now get in the truck!"

Dray was about to ask another question, but a hand roughly grabbed his arm and yanked him backward stopping him.

"Get in the truck, Schwein!" the guard ordered. Once Dray had complied, the guard exchanged salutes with Major Hochstetter. "Here are your prisoners, Herr Major."

Hochstetter chuckled. From the condition of his prisoners, he didn't think it likely an escape was possible. "Excellent. Where is Major Braun anyway?" He had hoped to say goodbye to his old friend before he and his men left.

"He is detained, Herr Major, and will be for the next hour if not longer. He sends his regards."

"Then we will take our leave, Private." The Major exchanged salutes with the guard before he himself climbed into the cab beside his driver. The Corporal started the engine, and set off on the drive back to Hammelburg, and Stalag 13.

* * *

Hogan, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were seated outside barracks two watching the activity in the compound. Hogan, seated on the end of the bench, had one foot on the bench with an arm draped over his bent knee. His other leg was outstretched lazily. None of the men paid attention to what was happening in the compound. But Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau wanted to keep Hogan company hoping to take his mind off his troubles. Hogan was just trying to stay positive in his thinking.

The opening of the barracks door caught their attention. Kinch quietly walked out of the hut and leaned against the wall with hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Good news, Colonel. I received a message from Bluebird. Major Hochstetter came back yesterday afternoon, and was told about Braun removing three prisoners from camp. He said Hochstetter left for Dusseldorf yesterday to get them thinking the officer was you. They'll be here in a few hours." The others smiled and talked excitedly, while Hogan smiled, looked up at the blue sky and let out a deep breath. Soon his godson and the others would be back in Stalag 13. And after a recuperative period, they would be sent to London.

LeBeau nudged his commanding officer in the side with an elbow. "I told you, mon Colonel," he said when Hogan turned his head in his direction. "I told you Terry would come back alive. You just had to have faith."

"Yes. Yes you did, LeBeau," Hogan replied with a smile. He closed his eyes and let the back of his head rest against the hut. He let out a deep breath as the Frenchman turned back to the others.

"Thank you," Hogan mouthed silently.

* * *

Hochstetter was lost in thought as he looked out the window. The Corporal behind the wheel could tell his boss was in a foul mood. The drive continued in silence. Hochstetter wondered how Klink would take the news that one of his prisoners was dead. Even though he had preferred it to have been Hogan who had died, seeing the Kommandant's reaction would still be worth the trip. He found himself wondering about this Lieutenant Carpenter. But more important, what had the Lieutenant been hiding, or better yet, whom did he die protecting? The Major smirked. The answer, at least to him, was so obvious.

"So Hogan, how will you feel knowing one of your men threw his life away for you, eh?" he asked the open air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his driver look at him. "Keep your eyes on the road," he growled.

"Jawohl, Herr Major," the Corporal stammered. The Major returned to staring out the window.

Hochstetter understood he would have no reason to interrogate Hogan. But knowing Hogan would be in pain because one of his men died protecting him, sent a small thrill through him. It would be a small but hollow victory.

* * *

Hogan and the others were still seated outside the barracks when a truck came through the front gate, its familiar red flags gently flapping in the light breeze.

"Looks like we have company," Newkirk remarked.

A slight smile appeared on the Colonel's face. "That looks like Hochstetter," he replied as the truck pulled up outside the Kommandantur. Schultz and Klink hurried down the steps of the Kommandantur and saluted the Major nervously. Hochstetter returned the salute.

"I wish I had known you were coming, Major Hochstetter," Klink stammered.

"I needed to bring something back to you, Klink," Hochstetter sneered as he walked to the back of the truck with Klink and Schultz following him.

Hogan's gut at once sensed something wasn't right. "LeBeau, go find Wilson. Tell 'im he's got three prisoners who are going to need his services."

"Oui, Colonel." The little Frenchman ran away to carry out his orders. After he left, the others got to their feet as two armed guards jumped down from the back of the truck, followed by the two prisoners. Gasps were heard among the men seeing the condition of the prisoners.

"Those bloody Krauts," Newkirk muttered angrily.

"Looks like Toller has something carved in his chest," Kinch remarked with growing rage of his own.

"I don't see Terry," Hogan remarked. His sense of something being wrong growing stronger.

"He might still be in the truck," Kinch suggested. "He might be too badly injured to get out without assistance."

"Perhaps," Hogan stated. "You fellas listen in on the coffee pot. I'm gonna find out why Hochstetter didn't bring Terry back if he's not inside that truck." Not waiting for a response, Hogan briskly walked in the direction of the truck. As he got closer, the guards tensed, whirled around, and pointed their weapons at him. Hogan froze in his tracks, hands held in front of him in a non-threatening manner.

Hochstetter sneered at the American. "Ignore him," he ordered the guards. The guards lowered their weapons. Hogan looked in the truck. "If you are looking for Lieutenant Carpenter, Hogan, he did not make the trip."

"So I see," Hogan replied. His eyes turned to Toller and Dray. "Are you two all right?"

"We've been better, sir," Dray replied. "I suppose it could have been worse. Colonel, can you find out what happened to Lieutenant Carpenter? Neither of us have seen him since we arrived in Dusseldorf, and they won't tell us anything."

"Neither of you know anything?" Hogan asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wilson and his associate, Sergeant Paul Anderson, hurrying toward them with LeBeau following them. Behind them were four other prisoners carrying two stretchers. Hogan stepped back to allow the camp medics room to work.

"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau cried seeing the dried blood and started feeling faint. But he managed to hold it together somehow.

"Colonel…" Toller began hissing in pain. "We don't need a medic. We'll be okay."

"Just let Wilson and Anderson do their job and that's an order. I'll check on both of you later." Hogan looked at Wilson, concerned. "Take good care of them, Joe." He turned to Hochstetter. "Where is Lieutenant Carpenter, Major?"

Hochstetter smiled wickedly. This might not be a total loss after all. "I was about to explain the Lieutenant's whereabouts to your Kommandant, Hogan. Perhaps you would like to join us in his office while we talk. This way you will understand exactly why the Lieutenant didn't come with us back to Stalag 13." Without waiting for Hogan's response, the Gestapo Major turned back to Klink. "Shall we continue our conversation in your office, Kommandant?"

Klink swallowed nervously. Hochstetter was being, for him, too friendly. And with Hogan no less. It sent shivers up and down the Kommandant's spine. "Yes, Major. Schultz, offer any aid to Sergeants Wilson and Anderson. Major Hochstetter, Colonel Hogan, and I will be in my office."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz answered saluting.

As Hochstetter started up the steps, he turned to the guards. "Undo the shackles on these prisoners. Mach Schnell!" He turned and followed Klink up the steps.

"Jawohl, Herr Major," one guard answered.

With a nod at Schultz, Klink followed Hochstetter up the steps with Hogan bringing up the rear. The three men went inside the Kommandantur to continue their conversation in private.

Inside Hogan's quarters, Newkirk plugged in the coffee pot as he, Kinch and Carter gathered around to eavesdrop. They heard the door to Klink's office open and close.

* * *

"All right, Major. Where is Lieutenant Carpenter?" Hogan asked trying to keep his temper in check.

"Yes, Major. Where is Lieutenant Carpenter?" Klink repeated Hogan's question. He closed his mouth when Hochstetter glared at him.

Hochstetter reached inside his jacket pocket, grabbed Hogan's right hand, palm upward, and dropped the dog tags into it. The American officer stared at the tags as if in a daze. "That is all that is left of your Lieutenant Carpenter, Hogan."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Major," Klink said seeing the American's reaction.

"Lieutenant Carpenter died this morning," Hochstetter ignored Klink, focusing on the stunned and shattered Robert Hogan. "He was shot while trying to escape. And being a good commander, I thought you would want his dog tags to send to his family, Hogan." There was a wicked smile on the Major's face.

* * *

"Those bleedin" bastards!" Newkirk slammed his fist on the desk angrily. "They murdered the Gov'nor's godson."

"How could they do that to the Colonel?" asked Carter. "Kill his godson I mean." He paused. "You think Major Braun did to Lieutenant Carpenter what the Colonel told us?" he asked quietly, eyes bright with unshed tears.

"We'll probably never find out, Andrew," Kinch said quietly. He also was enraged over what they had overheard. "They probably tortured him to death and used the old cover story of shot while escaping."

"Shhhh," Newkirk said with a wave of his hand. "Listen." The trio quieted.

"_I'm glad you found them, Major. Lieutenant Carpenter lost these and has been looking for them. When are you bringing him back?"_

Kinch, Carter and Newkirk all exchanged concerned looks, wondering what their commanding officer was up to now.

* * *

(1) Stuck Scheibe - Piece of shit. Courtesy of Pen-or-Sword.

(2) amerikanisches Schwein - American pig. Courtesy of Pen-or-Sword.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

While Carter, Newkirk and Kinch exchanged looks, the door opened and LeBeau hurried inside, out-of-breath. Kinch looked at the little Frenchman. His color was coming back.

"How are Toller and Dray?" Kinch asked, worried.

The Frenchman shrugged. "Wilson and Anderson are still working on them. He thinks they should recover despite what the filthy Bosche did to them. He will have a better idea once he completes his examinations. What about Lieutenant Carpenter?"

"The Gestapo killed him, I'm afraid," Newkirk explained grimly. "Shot while escaping. Or so they say."

"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau cried, angrily. "How is the Colonel?"

"I think he's in shock," Carter explained. "I mean, he asked Major Hochstetter when was he gonna bring the Lieutenant back."

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Andrew, don't you understand a thing? The Gov'nor is tryin' to recover his godson's body. Could you leave a loved one in the hands of the Gestapo? Even if they're dead?"

"Guess not," Carter replied with a bowed head and shrug of his shoulders.

"Everybody, be quiet," Kinch ordered.

The men continued to listen to the exchange in Klink's office.

* * *

"Did I understand you correctly, Hogan?" asked Hochstetter as he hooked his thumbs on his belt. The Major had a sickening look of delight on his face at Hogan's distress. But he suspected Hogan of a trick. "You are asking me to bring Lieutenant Carpenter back?"

"You heard me, Major. When are you going to bring him back?"

"Hogan, I don't know what kind of game you are playing, but he is not coming back."

"Not coming back? How do you expect me to return his dog tags if he doesn't come back?" He looked at Klink, pleading. "Kommandant, make him bring Lieutenant Carpenter back here."

Hochstetter turned and glared at Klink who chuckled nervously. Klink also wondered what his Senior POW officer was doing. He looked at Hogan with a frown.

"Hogaaaaannnn. I can't do that."

Hogan draped an arm around Hochstetter's shoulders. The Major stared at the hand gripping his outer shoulder, then looked in Hogan's face. He had just had his coat cleaned and now it would have to be cleaned again.

"I don't know why I'm wasting my time asking you anyway, Colonel. The Major's my friend. He'll bring Lieutenant Carpenter back. Won't you, Major?" Hogan smiled in the Major's face.

With a growl, Hochstetter glared at Hogan and removed the American's arm from around his shoulders. He turned back to the German officer. "Klink, I have an important appointment in town, and no time for anymore of Hogan's kinder spiel. Heil Hitler." Not waiting for a reply, Hochstetter turned, pausing long enough to glare at the American again. "Bah!" he shouted. After he yanked open the door, Hochstetter nearly ran into the large body of Sergeant Schultz who was coming in at the same time. The Major gave one last look at the Kommandant. "Klink, I will send you the cleaning bill for my coat." He slammed the door behind him. After he left, Hogan turned to the Kommandant.

"Kommandant, you let Hochstetter walk out of here before he agreed to bring Lieutenant Carpenter back."

Klink threw up his arms in confusion. He realized Hogan was obviously in shock over the death of one of his men. The American could not recover the Lieutenant's body. Sadly, Klink understood the body was by now, buried in a mass grave somewhere. It sickened him that Hochstetter had enjoyed Hogan's distress. "Hogan, Lieutenant Carpenter is dead. The Gestapo will not be sending his body back."

Hogan looked at the two small pieces of metal on a chain in his hand again. He looked at Klink. "He is not dead! You refuse to have the Major bring him back! How could you do that?"

"Hogan…" Klink warned, not in the mood for any of Hogan's games. Instead, he looked at Schultz who had been standing quietly nearby the entire time. "What do you want Schultz?" he asked, exasperated.

"Herr Kommandant, that nice Lieutenant Carpenter is dead?" Schultz asked quietly looking at Klink.

"Yes, Schultz. Now what are you doing here?" From Klink's tone, the guard understood the Kommandant had no patience or tolerance right now.

"Herr Kommandant, the two prisoners are in the infirmary. Sergeant Wilson asked me to tell you he will update you on their conditions once he completes his examinations."

"Excellent, Schultz. Dissss-missssed."

"Jawohl." Schultz saluted and started to turn away when his eyes landed on the still dazed Hogan. With eyes narrowed, the guard looked at the American with a sad expression. "Colonel Hogan, I'm sorry for your loss." The American always took the loss of one of his men hard. But this felt different. The look on Hogan's face confirmed what Schultz suspected; the Lieutenant was related to Hogan. He didn't care what the relationship was. But to see Colonel Hogan, a man he greatly respected, in great obvious pain, tore at him.

Hogan looked into Schultz's eyes and the compassion in them. With a final look at the tags, Hogan grabbed one of the guards large hands, and dropped the tags in the open palm. He closed the fingers over them. "Schultz, I trust you. Take care of these dog tags for me until Lieutenant Carpenter comes back. They might get lost again if I keep them in the barracks. Can you do that for me?"

With the expression on Hogan's face, Schultz didn't have the heart to refuse the American. "Ja, Colonel Hogan. I will guard them with my life."

Hogan smiled. "Thank you, Schultz." He let out a deep breath. A great weight had been lifted. "Now if you excuse me, I have to figure out how to get Lieutenant Carpenter back here as our Kommandant refuses to lift a finger to help."

Klink's body shook with annoyance. "Hogaaaaannnn! I have no idea what game you are playing but it stops here and now! Do I make myself clear?"

"Very," Hogan replied staring at Klink, annoyed. "But I expected nothing less from a man who won't help me convince Major Hochstetter to bring back Lieutenant Carpenter. Thanks for nothing." Not bothering to salute, Hogan briskly turned and walked out of the office leaving Klink staring after him, open-mouthed. Once the door closed, Klink looked at his Sergeant-of-the-Guard, puzzled.

"The _insolence_ of the man! Schultz, I suspect Hogan is up to something."

"Herr Kommandant, he is grieving for one of his men."

Klink nodded in agreement. "Hmmmmm. You probably right. Dissss-missssed."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz saluted and started to leave. He paused. "Herr Kommandant, what about these?" He opened his right hand to show the dog tags.

"Leave them on my desk. I'll put them in my desk drawer and give them to Hogan later."

* * *

Newkirk pulled the plug from the coffee pot and leaned against the desk, arms stiff and hands flat. "Well mates?" he asked looking at the others. The others exchanged concerned looks.

"We must help the Colonel," LeBeau explained. "We have to be there for him, even if he pushes us away."

"And we will," Kinch agreed. "For now, we give him space. And don't crowd him. His denying Terry is dead is a sure sign it hasn't fully hit him yet. But it will in a few hours. When it does, he'll need our support. If there's a problem, tell me." The radioman's eyes darted from man-to-man. Nobody said a thing. Suddenly Kinch's eyes fell on Carter.

"Carter? What's on your mind?" Kinch asked.

Carter licked his dry lips. "I was wondering why the Colonel kept asking for Terry to be brought back. It sounded as if he considered him still alive. I mean, he didn't even take the dog tags."

Newkirk rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Andrew, we went over this already. The Gov'nor wants to recover the Lieutenant's body. He was family to the Colonel. And General Carpenter's only child. He wants the body back for both of them. Besides, he probably wants to send the tags with Terry's body if he can."

"Oui. Pierre is right, Andre. The Colonel knows in his heart that his godson is dead. His head hasn't caught up with his heart yet. But it will. It will just take time."

"I agree with Newkirk and LeBeau," Kinch added. "And Carter, don't you bring that up to the Colonel, understand? We don't want you to upset him more than he is. You get what I'm saying?"

"You can trust me," Carter assured him. "I don't want to add to Colonel Hogan's pain."

Their conversation was interrupted when the door opened, and in walked Colonel Hogan, closing the door behind him. His men gathered around him, each looking at him with compassion.

"I assume you guys overheard?" Hogan asked.

Kinch looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, we did. Colonel, we can't tell you how sorry we are. We know how important Terry was to you."

"What do you mean by was, Kinch?" Hogan's eyebrows knitted together. "He still is because he's still alive. Besides, Major Hochstetter will bring him back."

Kinch bit his lower lip as he and the others exchanged looks. They knew they had to be careful. "Uh Colonel, it might take time to bring Lieutenant Carpenter back. You know how these things are."

Newkirk cocked his head. "Gov'nor, tell us what we can do to make what happened easier for you?"

"What are you saying, Newkirk?" Hogan asked suspiciously. He looked at his men. "In fact, why are each of you looking so sad? Don't tell me you believe that rubbish Klink was saying? Terry isn't dead. He's not. Major Hochstetter will bring him back."

"Mon Colonel, what if he doesn't? The Lieutenant will be…"

"He's not dead!" Hogan shouted. "He isn't! You're lying! He'll be back. Now get out!"

"But Colonel, you need to lay down for awhile and rest," Kinch began.

"I don't need to rest! I need to get Terry back. Klink won't help. I'd like to think you guys are behind me in this."

"Gov'nor…"

"If you can't help me then get out."

"Colonel…"

"Get out!_" _Hogan shouted. Nobody moved. "I _said _get out!"

With a nod, the men walked past their commanding officer and left the small room. Newkirk closed the door quietly behind him. The men looked at each other.

"How's Colonel Hogan?" asked Olsen as he and a small group of prisoners approached the men.

"The Colonel was yelling," Addison added.

Kinch let out a deep breath. "He'll be back to normal with time. He just hasn't come to terms with the Lieutenant's death yet." He motioned with his head for them to continue their conversation away from Hogan's door. Moving out of hearing range, the radioman looked at Addison with his hands in his pockets. "We're not keeping things from you Addison, or anybody else. The Colonel needs us to give him space and not smother him. And that's what we're gonna do. When he's ready to talk he will. And I don't think we should push him to talk until he's ready."

Baker looked at Kinch. "You can count on us to do whatever we can to help the Colonel to accept what's happened with Lieutenant Carpenter."

Olsen agreed. He had seen how his former commanding officer had reacted when he had lost men on a mission. He acted the same way. "What do you need us to do right now, Kinch?"

The radioman let out a deep breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He looked at Olsen. "Olsen, right now I need you to find Wilson. Tell him when he's finished taking care of Toller and Dray, we need him to come to barracks two and bring his bag."

"What do I tell him if he should ask the reason?" Olsen asked.

"Just tell him to come and see me and that I'll explain everything to him when he gets here."

"Right away." Olsen hurried from the barracks. After he left, Kinch gestured to Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau to join him in a corner of the room near the tunnel entrance.

"Why do you want Wilson to come see the Colonel?" asked Carter.

"It's simple," Kinch explained. "What the Colonel needs is sleep. In his state I doubt he will. But if Wilson sedates him, he'll hopefully sleep through the night. A little rest might be what he needs to come to terms with his loss."

* * *

Hogan sat on the lower bunk with his face buried in his hands. He was so tired right now.

"Hey Rob, something wrong?" a familiar voice asked.

Lifting his head, Hogan saw Terry straddling the chair at his desk, arms resting on its back. His eyes widened. "Terry. When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. I didn't want to interrupt your conversation with your men."

A slow smile appeared. "I knew they were lying to me. Claiming you were dead. I kept telling them you were alive."

Terry chuckled and shook his head. "Rob, do I look dead to you?"

Hogan shook his head. "Terry, it's so good to see you. I was so worried about you when they took you and the others from here."

"I'm just fine. How are Toller and Dray? They looked in pretty bad shape when I saw them."

Hogan sighed. "They were. But Wilson will do everything he can. I also want him to check you out once he's done. I'm sure Major Braun was brutal."

"He was. But I'm fine. Oh I have a few bruises, but nothing that requires a medic. I'd tell you if I did. Wilson's a good medic. If anybody can help them it's him."

It was then the door opened and a prisoner peeked into the room. Hogan looked around at the man who appeared nervous. "Colonel, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Hogan lied. "Why do you ask?"

The man, a Private, shrugged. "I…I thought you were talking to someone, sir. I wanted to check on you. I mean since finding out Lieutenant Carpenter's dead. Sorry if I disturbed you, sir."

Hogan feigned a smile. "You didn't disturb me, Private. I'm fine. I just want to be alone right now."

"Yes, sir." The Private quietly closed the door again leaving Hogan alone. A few seconds after the door closed, Hogan turned back to his godson who looked at him curiously.

"What's troubling you, Terry?"

"Why didn't you tell him I was here and alive?"

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Not yet. I want to surprise them. So for now, I want to keep you being alive a secret. I promise I will tell them soon." Terry smiled at this news. He didn't enjoy keeping secrets from the others, especially one of this size. But for now, he'd go along with Hogan's wishes.

* * *

The door to barracks two opened and in walked Sergeant Schultz, a sad look on his face. Kinch and the others were gathered beside the double bunk Carter and Newkirk used. The men looked at him.

"We have no time for a visit, Schultzie," Newkirk explained. "We have a problem."

"I know," Schultz replied. He looked around the room. Nobody was near enough to hear anything. "I'm not here to visit," he said keeping his voice low. "I'm here about Colonel Hogan."

The four men looked at each other, protective of the Colonel right now.

"What about Colonel Hogan?" asked LeBeau, his face impassive.

"I want to help if you'll let me."

"Help how?" asked Kinch. "There's nothing wrong with the Colonel."

Schultz looked around again and drew closer to the men. "I know Lieutenant Carpenter was somehow related to him. That's why he's taken his death harder than normal. I don't want to know how they're related."

Newkirk was still wary. "Then how can you help, mate?"

Kinch smiled sadly. "And why would you stick your neck out like that, Schultz? Afterall, Colonel Hogan is the enemy to you."

"Besides, aren't you the one who always knows nothing and sees nothing?" asked LeBeau.

"Ja. But Colonel Hogan is a nice man. He has always been kind to me. Chocolate or no chocolate. I want to help if I can."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

It was after lunchtime before Wilson was finally able to get to barracks two. But before he arrived, the team mulled over Schultz's offer to help the Colonel. His agreement to keep them updated if Burkhalter, Klink, or Hochstetter noticed a difference in Hogan would be helpful. In addition, he promised to deter Klink as best he could if the Kommandant started asking too many questions. And to prove himself sincere, he refused a chocolate bar, saying he did not want anything to happen to Colonel Hogan. Touched, the men agreed, but warned Schultz to be careful while doing so. With a smile, the large man left the barracks to return to his post.

After he had left, Kinch, Carter and Newkirk sat at the table in the common room. LeBeau poured each a cup of hot coffee, including one for himself, and rejoined the others at the table.

"So what do you think, mes amis?" LeBeau asked taking a drink of his coffee.

Newkirk shrugged. "Hope the ole barrage balloon can keep us in the loop without too much trouble."

"I think Schultz can do it," Carter declared. "Besides, who else can we trust?"

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Carter, it's not a matter of trust."

"It's not?"

"No. This is the Gov'nor's life we're talkin' about, mate." Newkirk saw Carter was still confused. "Look, we all understand the Colonel's depressed over his godson's death. Hell, anybody would be. But nobody knows how long it will take the Colonel to accept Terry's death. It could take a long while."

"Right now, the Bosche know mon Colonel is grieving. But we do not know how long before they start asking questions," added LeBeau.

Before Carter could ask another question, the door of the hut opened, and Wilson entered. He looked around, and Kinch waved for him to join them. The camp medic sat his medical bag on the table and sat beside Carter. "Sorry it took me so long. But treating Toller and Dray took a while. Olsen was sitting with both men when I left the infirmary."

"Want a cup of coffee, Joe?" asked LeBeau starting to get to his feet.

"No thanks. Olsen said you wanted to talk to me, Kinch. What's the problem?" The medic looked and sounded tired.

"How are Toller and Dray?" Kinch asked.

Wilson looked at the Frenchman and let out a deep breath. "I think I will have that coffee, LeBeau. Unless you have something much stronger hidden away somewhere."

"Non. Only coffee." LeBeau got to his feet. He grabbed a mug, sat it in front of Wilson, and poured half a cup of coffee. He replaced the pot on the stove and sat back down on the bench. The men waited until after Wilson took a drink. The medic shook his head.

"Sometimes the Krauts still amaze me with their cruelty," the medic said grimly. "My biggest concerns with Toller are the swastika carved into his chest, and his right eye. The cut on his chest was deep, and showed signs of infection which we caught in time. The cuts on his face should heal nicely leaving faint scars. He has two cracked ribs on his right side, and we wrapped the ribs. But the cut on his chest will leave a permanent scar." Wilson paused and took another drink of coffee. "As far as his right eye, we can't tell if there's any damage until the swelling is gone. When it does, an eye doctor can tell us how much damage he has to the sight in his eye."

"Filthy Bosche!" LeBeau muttered.

"Blimey."

"And Dray?" asked Kinch.

"Sergeant Dray faired better than Corporal Toller. He has two cracked ribs on his right side, and two fractured ones on his left. The broken ones were not displaced fractures. We've wrapped his ribs as well. The bruises on his throat show somebody grabbed him by the throat and tried to strangle him. Those bruises will fade in time. Doesn't appear to be any damage to his throat otherwise. The slices on his face and chest weren't deep and there's no sign of infection. Should be no scarring once these cuts heal. In the long run, Dray should recover completely in time. But Corporal Toller has a long road ahead of him. It just looks to me like somebody took out their aggression with him as the primary target."

"Boy," Carter uttered resting his head against his fist.

Kinch shook his head in anger at the cruelty of the Gestapo. He felt badly for the Sergeant. But knowing what Major Braun was capable of, he believed the man got off lucky.

Wilson glanced around at the men seated at the table. "Where's Lieutenant Carpenter? Is he in the Colonel's quarters? Or has he not been brought back yet?"

Kinch then explained what happened to Lieutenant Carpenter as Wilson listened, stunned. He couldn't believe the nice young man he had known briefly was now dead by the same hands which had done so much damage to Toller and Dray.

"My God," Wilson exclaimed. "How's the Colonel? He has to be taking this very hard."

Newkirk, Carter, Kinch, and LeBeau explained what they had overheard in Klink's office when the others had been brought back.

"From what you've told me, his denying Terry is dead is a means of the mind to protect itself against something it can't handle. I don't think there's any reason for you to worry. Everybody grieves differently. But I will take a look at him if you'd like."

"We do, Joe. We suspect he might need to be sedated so he can sleep," Kinch added. "He looks exhausted."

"I'll definitely take a look at him. If I find it necessary, I will give him something so he can sleep through the night. Where is he by the way?"

"In his quarters," LeBeau gestured with his head toward the smaller room.

Wilson finished his coffee and got to his feet, grabbing his bag. "I'll let you know what I find after I've examined him." He walked in the direction of the smaller room.

* * *

Hogan and Terry were still talking when someone knocked on his door. "Come in," the Colonel ordered. He frowned when the door opened and Wilson walked in the room. His eyes right away shifted to the bag Wilson was holding. The medic closed the door.

"Colonel, I was just told. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" asked Hogan warily, still eying the bag. "Terry isn't dead," he insisted with an edge to his voice. He was growing tired of people telling him his godson was dead. "Why are you here?" he asked suspiciously.

"The men are concerned, Colonel. You've had a tremendous shock, and your reaction worries them. They asked me to make sure you're all right."

Hogan turned toward Terry. "The men think I'm crazy because I say you're not dead. Can you believe them, Terry? They've conned Wilson."

Wilson looked at the empty chair to which Hogan was talking. _The Colonel believes his godson is alive and seated in the chair in front of him. _He let out a deep breath and sat on the edge of Hogan's desk facing the officer. "Colonel, look at me. Please." The medic waited patiently until Hogan looked him directly in the eyes. There was suspicion in the Colonel's brown eyes.

"What do you want, Joe?" Hogan's voice reflected his irritation.

"Colonel, I want to examine you if you'll let me." The medic kept his eyes focused on his commanding officer, and his voice calm. "But don't look at it in a negative light. Look at it this way. If there's nothing wrong with you, it will lessen the worry the men have."

Hogan, still staring suspiciously at the medic, turned to the empty chair. "What do you think, Terry?" he asked the man who was present in his own mind.

Terry shrugged and scratched his chin. "I'm no psychiatrist, Rob. But what Wilson says makes a lotta sense. Let 'im check you out. Finding nothing will ease the fellas minds."

The officer looked again at Wilson. "Go ahead, Joe."

Wilson smiled and sat his bag on the footlocker. He opened and rummaged through it until he found what he wanted. "I'd like you to remove your jacket, Colonel, and roll up your sleeve for me."

* * *

Kommandant Klink sat behind his desk with elbows near the edge, rubbing his chin with one hand. He appeared to still be thinking of the day's earlier events. Specifically, the actions of his Senior POW officer.

He opened his middle drawer, pulled out the dog tags, and fingered them. He still thought it strange Hogan did not take the tags, much less give them to Schultz for safekeeping. _What are you up to, Hogan? _He decided he had spent too much time wondering, and put the tags back in his drawer. Closing the drawer, Klink reached for the phone on the corner of his desk. He pressed the receiver to his ear.

"Fraulein Hilda, get me General Burkhalter's office in Berlin. Priority call." The Kommandant didn't want to explain the matter to the General. But knew if Burkhalter found out, there would be hell to pay. He forced a smile to his face. "General Burkhalter, Colonel Klink here. Klink, sir. How are you?"

"Klink, get to the point. I'm busy."

Klink's smile became a frown. "Yes, sir. Get to the point. Sir, I wanted to update you. Major Hochstetter brought back Corporal Toller and Sergeant Dray earlier today. I was also informed Lieutenant Carpenter was shot and killed trying to escape. But I have another reason for calling. It's about Colonel Hogan."

"What about Hogan, Klink?"

"Well, sir. It's difficult to explain. Perhaps you should come and see for yourself."

"I don't have time to be bothered with your suspicions, Klink. Now what is wrong with Hogan."

"Yes, sir. To begin with, Colonel Hogan refused to take Lieutenant Carpenter's dog tags when they were given to him. He kept saying the Lieutenant wasn't dead, and asking Major Hochstetter to bring him back to Stalag 13. He even gave the tags to Schultz and asked him to safeguard them. His behavior is quite strange in my opinion." An exasperated sigh was heard on the other end.

"Klink, I understand its been awhile, but try to recall how it felt to lose men in your command. If Hogan's claiming the Lieutenant is still alive, its because he can't accept the fact one of his men is dead. He is a commander, Dummkopf. He will come around once he accepts the reality. Keep me informed Klink. Call me if anything changes with Hogan. _Understood?!"_

"Yes, sir."

"Gut! Heil Hitler." Burkhalter hung up the phone not waiting for Klink to reply.

"Heil Hitler," Klink mumbled after hearing the click on the other end.

* * *

Wilson completed his examination. It did not surprise him to find nothing physically wrong.

"Well?" Hogan asked watching the medic rummage through his bag. "Am I physically fit?"

"Yes you are, sir," Wilson replied pulling out a small vial and a syringe. Hogan, who always hated needles, stiffened at seeing them. "What is that for?" he asked warily.

"It's a sedative to help you sleep, Colonel," Wilson replied filling the syringe.

"I don't need a sedative. I'm fine. Besides, Terry and I still need to talk and plan. And I have to get him and the others back to England once the others can travel."

Wilson cleared any air bubbles from the syringe and looked at Hogan. "I understand, Colonel. But you need sleep. I'm sure Terry will still be here after you awaken. Besides, the others won't be able to travel for awhile. Can't have you becoming ill with so much still to be done."

Hogan eyed Wilson warily. He glanced in Terry's direction, and didn't have to ask. Terry smiled at him. "You need to rest, Rob. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Hogan looked at Wilson and gave in albeit reluctantly. Terry and Hogan both watched as Wilson inserted the business end of the syringe into Hogan's arm and pushed the plunger injecting the sedative. Once finished, Hogan lay down on the lower cot, and moments later yawned.

"You should fall asleep soon, Colonel," Wilson explained closing his bag. "I gave you a fast-acting sedative, so you should start feeling the effects right away. I'll be by later to check on you." Wilson got to his feet when he heard Hogan's breathing even out. The medic grabbed the blanket from the top bunk, covered the Colonel with it, and tucked it around him. With a final glance at the older man, Wilson left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The medic stood outside the closed door, hand on the doorknob, and shook his head. With a weary sigh, he walked over to the table where Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk still sat, waiting. When he saw the medic's expression, LeBeau got to his feet, grabbed the coffee pot and poured what was left into the cup. He prepared a fresh pot and put it on the stove.

"How's the Gov'nor?" asked a concerned Newkirk.

Before Wilson can answer, the lower bunk in the corner rattled upward, and Baker climbed into the barracks. The others saw the look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong, mon ami?" asked LeBeau.

"I'm not sure," Baker replied. "I was watching the switchboard. Klink made a call to Burkhalter. He told the General about Hochstetter bringing back the other two, and the Lieutenant's death."

"So?" asked Newkirk.

"Klink told Burkhalter Colonel Hogan's been acting strangely after finding out the Lieutenant was dead. Y'know, by refusing to take the dog tags. Burkhalter then ordered Klink to tell him if the Colonel continues acting strangely." Baker saw the looks on the faces of the others. "What's going on?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, mate," Newkirk assured him. "Ole Klink thinks the Gov'nor's up to something."

"Oui. The Colonel is trying to get the Lieutenant's body back for burial. Klink finds that strange on the Colonel's part."

But Baker wasn't sure. "The Colonel will be all right, won't he?"

"There's nothing wrong, Baker," Wilson assured the man. "Many people do things when they mourn which we don't understand. But that doesn't mean there's something wrong with them."

Baker mulled over the medic's explanation over before he nodded. "Well, I'm gonna go back down and watch the switchboard for a few more hours."

Kinch looked at the young man. "Good work, Baker. Let us know if Klink makes or receives any more phone calls. Who's monitoring the radio right now?"

"Garlotti."

"Good."

Baker turned and disappeared back into the tunnel. After he was gone, the men let out a collective sigh of relief.

Wilson took a drink of coffee. "I gave the Colonel a sedative. He should sleep through the night. I'm counting on you guys to make sure nobody wakes him. I'll inform Klink in my medical opinion, the Colonel be excused from roll call for at least forty-eight hours." He took another drink. "You'll be relieved there's nothing physically wrong with him. But he is grieving and will be for awhile. I recommend to be there for him, but don't push him to talk. He'll talk when and if he's ready. He was having a conversation with Terry while I was there."

"What?" asked an incredulous LeBeau.

Kinch and Carter looked at each other.

"What are you sayin', mate?" Newkirk's eyes narrowed. "I hope you're not sayin' the Gov'nor's gone crackers." The Englander's tone was harsh, and his green eyes flashed dangerously. "The Gov'nor's not out of his mind."

"I'm not saying that, Newkirk." Wilson wrapped both hands around the coffee cup in front of him.

"You better not be, mate."

"Calm down, Newkirk," Kinch ordered. The radioman turned his attention to the medic. "What _are _you saying, Joe?"

"I am not saying the Colonel's had a break with reality. All I'm saying is his talking with Terry in my presence confirms what I said earlier. It's his mind's way of coping right now with an unpleasant event. He should be better in the morning. Be patient with him and try not to worry if he has conversations with Terry if you're with him. Once he can deal with what's happened, he'll stop." The medic got to his feet wearily. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have to inform Klink about the Colonel and return to the infirmary and check on Toller and Dray." He grabbed his bag.

"Thanks, Joe," Kinch muttered.

"I'll come back later and check on the Colonel," Wilson added before he turned and left the barracks.

"Blimey," Newkirk muttered rubbing his forehead. "This keeps gettin' better and better."

"You will see, mon ami. Colonel Hogan will be back to his old self soon."

"LeBeau's right," Kinch explained. "The Colonel will be fine as soon as he accepts the Lieutenant's death.

"Yeah. Colonel Hogan's gonna need us. We gotta be there for him," Carter bit his lower lip.

"And we will, Andrew." Newkirk informed him.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

The rest of the day was uneventful. After leaving barracks two, Wilson walked to the Kommandantur, up the steps, and inside the outer office. After a few words with Hilda, she announced the medic to the Kommandant, and stood aside to allow him to enter. She left and closed the door behind her, leaving the two men alone to talk.

"Kommandant, I'd like to speak with you if I may?" asked Wilson standing in front of Klink's desk.

"Yes, Sergeant Wilson. What can I do for you?" Klink asked glancing up briefly before going back to his paperwork.

"Sir, I'm here to update you on Colonel Hogan." The Kommandant looked up at Wilson. He put down his pen, rested his elbows on the desk, and clasped his hands in front of him.

"What about Colonel Hogan?" Klink eyed the man warily.

"Kommandant, I've just come from examining the Colonel. I was forced to sedate him so he would sleep. Not only is he exhausted, but he is having a hard time handling the news about Lieutenant Carpenter. I recommend he be allowed to miss roll call for the next two days."

"Oh you do, do you? My answer is to forget it, Sergeant." Klink got up from his chair, and walked to the file cabinet. He pulled open the first drawer. "Whatever Colonel Hogan is up to, it has gone on long enough," he continued with his back to Wilson. "So you can just tell him I expect him at roll call this evening, or he'll spend the next two weeks in the cooler." Klink slammed the open drawer closed and returned to his chair. He glanced at the medic. "That's all. Dismissed." But Wilson did not move. Klink looked up again. "I _said_ dismissed, Sergeant!" Again Wilson refused to move.

"Kommandant, I can't believe you. A man has been murdered. And you don't give a damn." Wilson bowed his head and shook it. "Guess when General Burkhalter comes here and asks what's wrong with Colonel Hogan, I'll just tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"That you refused to give the Colonel time to grieve, and pushed him. I'll also have to tell the Protecting Power of your mistreatment of an Allied prisoner who's in mourning. They in turn will contact Berlin…"

"Perhaps I was being a bit harsh." Klink's body stiffened at the mention of Berlin finding out. That meant the General would find out. And Burkhalter would blame him for the fallout. He began to see snowflakes. A nervous smile broke out on Klink's face. "Of course Colonel Hogan can miss roll call for the next forty-eight hours. But Sergeant Schultz will check and make sure he's there. If he isn't, heads will roll."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Wilson replied with a grin. _Yeah, especially a nice shiny one_, he thought looking at Klink's balding dome.

"Is there anything else, Sergeant Wilson?"

"Yes, sir. I will be checking on Colonel Hogan after evening roll call. I'll be sure to have one of the guards accompany me to barracks two and back."

"Very good. Diss-missed."

"Thank you, sir." Wilson saluted before he turned and left the office, a smirk on his face which Klink didn't notice.

After the medic left, Klink was still a nervous wreck. He had no idea what to do. He got to his feet and began to pace, wringing his hands nervously. Hogan would never use the death of one of his men for an ulterior motive. He recalled how Hogan looked when he found out the Lieutenant was dead. The man looked shattered. Totally and completely shattered. How could he believe Hogan was doing anything except grieving?

Lieutenant Carpenter's death was tragic; Klink did not deny this. The man had been murdered. Murdered by Major Braun of whom he had heard horrible things of which nightmares are made. As a bomber commander, Hogan had lost men. Hell, in the first war, so had he. Was that the root of Hogan's actions? He probably had not had a man murdered before, or since he became a prisoner. It was a new experience and it threw him. Klink smiled as he realized what was wrong with the American.

Feeling more relaxed now that he had a handle on the problem, Klink agreed he would give Hogan the time to grieve for his fallen comrade. But he would keep a wary eye on the American. If it turned out to be something more, he would catch it sooner rather than later. He walked around his desk and sat back down in his chair.

"Schuuuullltzzz!" he bellowed. The door opened at once, and the large guard came in, closing the door. He exchanged salutes with Klink. "You called for me, Herr Kommandant?"

"Schultz, as much as I hate to do this, I'm forced to rely on your help with an important matter."

"I am at your service, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied proudly. "No matter what, I will do my best for you. Nobody will get in my way. No matter the problem, Schultz can…"

"Oh shut-up!" Klink groaned.

"Shutting up, Herr Kommandant."

"Schultz, Sergeant Wilson was just here. He informed me Colonel Hogan has been sedated and requests he be allowed to miss roll call for the next two days." The Sergeant's smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"Sedated, Herr Kommandant?" Schultz looked sadly at Klink. "Is Colonel Hogan going to be all right?"

"I have no idea. I hope so. When you conduct roll call this evening, and for the next two days, I want you to do a head count in barracks two only. Is that understood?"

"It shall be done."

"Good. Now Schultz, during roll call, make sure Hogan is there. I also want to know if anything changes with his condition."

"Changes Herr Kommandant? I don't understand." Schultz looked puzzled.

"For example, if Colonel Hogan does or says anything to show he is not getting better. This way, if he gets worse, I'll be able to handle it quietly before General Burkhalter finds out."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

"And remember, Schultz. Not one word to anybody or your next assignment will be buying snowshoes for your reassignment to the Eastern front."

"Jawohl." Schultz exchanged salutes, opened the door, and quietly left the office. He closed the door behind him, and stood outside the door thinking. With a sad smile at Hilda, he left the Kommandantur and headed in the direction of barracks two.

* * *

Newkirk, Kinch, Carter and LeBeau were sitting around the table drinking coffee and playing gin. Or at least trying to play. None of them were able to concentrate much. And even with his special deck, Newkirk lost three games in a row and didn't seem to care. LeBeau had checked on Hogan an hour earlier and found the Colonel still asleep. The men would not allow anybody in the Colonel's room except the four of them. They were determined to protect him.

"I can't keep me mind on cards," Newkirk explained throwing the cards down and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Me neither," Carter agreed.

"I'm out," Kinch agreed.

LeBeau didn't say anything. He just threw his cards on the table. He got to his feet and walked over to the stove and checked the dinner he was preparing.

"What's for dinner?" asked Newkirk not really interested. He removed his cigarette pack from inside his jacket and removed one. He returned the pack to his pocket.

"The beef stew left over from yesterday," LeBeau answered stirring the stew; his back to the others. "I did not have time to cook."

The barracks door opened and Schultz entered closing the door. Kinch, Newkirk and Carter looked up at the obese man. LeBeau looked around while stirring the stew.

"What's wrong, Schultzie?" asked Newkirk. "Don't tell me you came all the way here for left over beef stew?" He pulled out his lighter and lit the cigarette dangling from between his lips.

"Nein. I have news to tell you."

"About what?" asked Newkirk as he took a drag and blew the smoke out through his nose.

"First tell me if it's true?" the guard asked looking around the room.

"Is what true, Schultz?" asked Kinch.

"That Sergeant Wilson had to sedate Colonel Hogan."

" 'Fraid so," Carter explained sadly as he gathered up the discarded playing cards. "Colonel Hogan needs the rest after what he's been through."

"Now, why don't you tell us your news?" asked Kinch crossing his arms.

Once he looked around the room, Schultz leaned over the table and kept his voice low. Newkirk, Kinch and Carter also leaned close so they could hear. "Kommandant Klink ordered me to do a head count in barracks two only for the next two days beginning this evening. He also wants me to report to him if there are any indications Colonel Hogan is not getting over his grief."

Newkirk, Kinch and Carter exchanged worried looks with LeBeau who continued stirring.

"What does he mean by any indications mon Colonel isn't getting better?" asked LeBeau stepping away from the stove and closer to the guard, eyes narrowed.

Schultz shrugged his shoulders and looked at the Frenchman. "I have no idea. I guess he means if Colonel Hogan does or says anything that might be considered odd."

The guard saw the others look at each other. "Was ist los?" Schultz asked.

"Not a thing, Schultz. Not a thing." Kinch said as he and Carter got to their feet. They got Schultz to his feet and with effort, pushed him in the direction of the door.

"Why are you pushing me toward the door? What is going on?" asked the guard.

"No time for company, Schultz. We're about to eat dinner." Kinch pulled open the door with one hand.

"Right," Carter added. "We don't have enough beef stew to share with you, that's all." Together, he and Kinch gave one final shove to get Schultz out the door. After Kinch closed it, both men fell with their backs against the door, each letting out a deep breath.

"That was close," Carter said.

"Oui. If Schultz finds out the Colonel talked with a dead man, he would report it to Klink." LeBeau turned and walked back to the stove. He resumed stirring the stew.

Carter and Kinch sat back down at the table. "So what do we do now?" His question was directed at the radioman.

"Well, in one way we're lucky," the radioman began. "When Klink and Schultz do the head count this evening the Colonel will still be asleep. The problem is when he wakes in the morning. If he's close to normal…fine. If not, we've got a problem. Either way, we're gonna have to be prepared in case the Colonel is still the same come morning."

"Perhaps Wilson can help" Newkirk suggested as LeBeau put plates of stew in front of him and Kinch. Seconds later, he placed one in front of Carter. He poured fresh cups of coffee for the others. After he prepared a plate and cup of coffee for himself, the Frenchman sat down beside Kinch. The four men began to eat their dinner quietly, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

It was nearly three hours later that the door to the barracks opened and Schultz, followed by Klink, entered the room. The guard carried a clipboard in one hand.

"Achtung! Roll call inside! All prisoners, Achtung!"

"Good evening, gentlemen," Klink smirked. "Sorry to interrupt your evening pleasures. But we have a small matter of conducting roll call before lights out."

"We're all here," Newkirk muttered showing no interest whatsoever as he and Kinch played gin. Carter was rolling a ball of yarn with the other end wrapped around LeBeau's hands to keep it from getting knotted.

"Do we get a prize for cleaning up the place since we were aware you were coming?" asked Carter with an innocent look at Klink. There were a few snickers.

The pleasant look on Klink's face vanished at the young Sergeant's remarks as Schultz continued his counting. "I'm glad you're all in a good mood considering what happened earlier today." said Klink sarcastically. "Somehow I don't think Colonel Hogan would be in a jolly mood."

"Leave the Gov'nor outta this," Newkirk warned looking up from the cards in his hand, green eyes flashing. The Englander observed Klink move away from him and closer to Schultz.

"All prisoners present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant."

Klink had been watching Schultz as he counted each man. He sighed and looked at a spot on the far wall. He just wanted to leave the barracks. "Schultz, aren't you forgetting someone?"

Schultz looked puzzled. "I don't think so. Everybody who should be here is here."

"I'm sure if you think real hard it'll come to you," Klink suggested.

Schultz narrowed his eyes as he thought, but didn't think of who he might have overlooked.

"I think he means Colonel Hogan, Schultzie," Newkirk smirked looking up at the guards round face. "Right, Kommandant?"

"Right," Klink muttered. "Schultz, check and make sure Colonel Hogan's in his quarters."

Schultz saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." As the guard started towards Hogan's quarters, Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk jumped to their feet and raced past him to block the door to Hogan's quarters.

"Move aside," Klink demanded as he and Schultz stood outside the smaller room.

"We don't want you waking the Colonel," LeBeau said. "He needs his rest."

"Just take our word for it he's in his quarters," Newkirk added.

"Looks like we have a standstill," Carter said.

"That's standoff, idiot," LeBeau complained looking back at the young Sergeant with a shake of his head; Newkirk rolled his eyes skyward.

"Stand aside or you'll spend the next week in the cooler," Klink threatened.

The four men exchanged looks before slowly moving away from the door, allowing Schultz to open it quietly. The two Germans looked in the room. They saw Hogan, asleep, in the lower bed.

"He looks so peaceful when he's asleep," Schultz said with a smile. "Just like my kinder when they were children."

"Oh shut-up," Klink grumbled. He waited until Schultz quietly closed the door.

"Satisfied?" asked a smirking Frenchman with crossed arms.

"It's fortunate for you Hogan's here," Klink balled his fist and shook it at the four men. "If he wasn't…"

"Jeez, Kommandant. Where the heck could a sedated man go?" asked Carter, both hands in his pockets.

"Kommandant, can we not have this conversation in front of the Colonel's door? We don't want to wake him up," Kinch explained.

"Hrmph!" Klink mumbled as he abruptly turned and marched from the barracks with Schultz behind him. As they were leaving, Wilson was coming in accompanied by Corporal Scheider who was one of the tame guards. But, despite being tame, the men did not share information with him as they did Schultz.

"Coffee, Joe?" asked Kinch.

"No thanks. I just came to check on Colonel Hogan. How is he?"

"Klink and Schultz just looked in on him," LeBeau explained. "He was sleeping peacefully. We also have checked on him every hour since you sedated him and he seems fine."

"I'll just look in on him. I won't go inside the room." Wilson walked toward the smaller room and quietly opened the door. He looked inside and saw the sleeping man in the lower bunk. His breathing sounded normal. Wilson backed away from the doorway and closed the door. He walked back to where Scheider waited. "He's still asleep. Breathing sounds good. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens during the night."

"We will, Joe." Kinch stifled a yawn covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks for everything." He closed the door after the medic and guard left the hut.

Once they were gone, Kinch led the way to the table where LeBeau poured cups of coffee for each of them before he sat down himself.

"Heureusement c'est plus de," LeBeau muttered drinking his coffee.(1)

"I have no idea what that means, LeBeau, but I agree," Kinch joked.

"Yeah," Newkirk added. "And it really gets bloody complicated tomorrow when the Gov'nor wakes up."

The four men all looked at each other. Each wondering what the next day would bring, and what shape their commanding officer would be in when he woke.

* * *

(1) Heureusement c'est plus de means Thank heavens that is over.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

The morning found little change from the earlier night. When Hogan awoke, his men hoped he had improved. But soon they sadly realized his condition had not. In fact, there were signs his condition had worsened. The little Frenchman was the first to notice when he checked on Hogan before starting breakfast.

Hogan blinked and rubbed his eyes to get the crustiness out of them. His eyes fell on LeBeau standing inside the door. His eyebrows knitted together as confusion came over his face.

"LeBeau?" he asked sleepily. "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

LeBeau looked at his watch. "It is nearly eight a.m. How are you feeling, mon Colonel?"

Hogan sat up and ran both hands over his hair and yawned. "I'm fine," he said. His eyes shifted to the empty chair near the desk and saw it empty. He looked around the room frantically. Not seeing anybody, his eyes fell on LeBeau, full of anger. "What did you do with him?" he demanded.

"Done, mon Colonel? Done with whom?"

"My godson. What have you done with him? Where is he?"

LeBeau licked his dry lips and closed the door behind him. He didn't want the others to overhear. "Colonel, I realize you are having a difficult time. But you must snap out of it. Terry is dead. The sooner you accept…"

"_Liar!" _Hogan shouted causing the Frenchman to step back toward the door. The look on his commanding officer's face was frightening. Hogan got to his feet and approached the smaller man in a menacing manner. _"Klink put you up to this. He made you send Terry away, didn't he?" _

LeBeau found himself afraid of Hogan at this moment. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He had never seen the Colonel so angry. "Non, Colonel. Nobody sent him away." He took another step away from Hogan as the officer came toward him.

It was at that moment the door opened and Kinch walked in with Newkirk and Carter behind him. They had been attracted by Hogan's shouting. Behind them, craning their necks, were the other prisoners. Kinch looked at Newkirk and Carter. He understood the other prisoners were going to have questions and demand answers.

"Damage control," he said to Newkirk. He turned back to face Hogan and LeBeau.

"On it," Newkirk replied. The Englander motioned for Carter to join him and closed the door.

"What's going on, Colonel?" Kinch asked Hogan keeping his voice calm. "What did LeBeau do?" He saw the fear on the Frenchman's face.

"LeBeau made my godson go away," Hogan hissed, his eyes never leaving LeBeau. "He sent him away and won't tell me where he is."

Licking his lips, Kinch knew he had to be careful. "LeBeau would never do that to you, Colonel. Besides, Terry didn't leave. He's seated right in that chair. Look for yourself." He hoped his ploy will work.

Hogan looked at Kinch warily. Slowly, he turned his head back to the chair again. Terry sat there with a grin on his face. Hogan's face softened and he smiled affectionately at the younger man. With a weary sigh, the Colonel turned to the Frenchman.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I should have realized you did not send Terry away. But you must stop saying he's dead. He is not dead. Can you forgive me for yelling at you?"

LeBeau smiled. It broke his heart that this strong man whom he admired was so broken, and coming unraveled. "Oui. I will stop saying he's dead. And you do not need to apologize, mon Colonel." He bit his trembling lower lip. "I'd best start breakfast. When it is ready, will you be joining us outside?"

"No. We will eat in here. We have arrangements to make for his return to London." Hogan hooked his thumbs in his jacket pockets. "That reminds me. Kinch, contact London and find out how soon they can have a sub here to pick up the Lieutenant."

"Will do," said Kinch. "Listen, Colonel. Why don't you have Wilson check Terry over before he leaves for London? I mean, it uh…it will not do if there was a problem and we found out after he left, don't you agree?"

Hogan looked back at Terry. "He's right, y'know."

Terry sighed. "Rob, I don't need Wilson. I'm fine."

"Humor an old man, will you?" Hogan turned to LeBeau. "LeBeau, after breakfast, have Wilson come to my quarters and check Terry over, will you?"

"Oui, mon Colonel." With a grateful glance at the radioman, LeBeau hurried out of the room leaving Hogan and Kinch alone. As he stood outside the door to the smaller room, LeBeau bit his lower lip as the tears fell. He never thought he'd be afraid of or for Robert Hogan.

* * *

Back in the common room, Newkirk made a quick decision and explained what was happening to the Colonel and why. He felt they might need help from the others. The men sympathized with the Colonel, and most offered to help.

"So the Colonel cracked up, Newkirk. Is that what you're telling us?" asked Private Simpson, a new prisoner who had been in camp four months.

"We told you the Colonel's mourning the loss of his godson," Carter said.

"But you just told us the Colonel doesn't believe his godson's dead," Simpson said.

"But eventually it's gonna hit the Colonel and hit him hard," Carter explained. "And when it does, he's gonna need us."

"Doesn't matter to me," Simpson insisted. "Colonel Hogan's gone nuts and soon the Krauts are gonna know it as well. He's a danger to us. I say we tell London the Colonel's cracked up, and get him outta here before we get into trouble." He took a step back when Newkirk came toward him, green eyes flashing dangerously.

"We are not giving up on the Gov'nor," the Englander explained coolly. "He will get through this. But it's gonna take time. Have you ever lost somebody, Private? Did anybody call you crazy because of it?" Simpson didn't respond.

"So Lieutenant Carpenter was the Colonel's godson?" asked Olsen who gave Simpson a dirty look of his own which made the Private turn away uncomfortably.

"He is…was…" Carter corrected himself.

Newkirk paced around the room, looking each man in the eye. "Nobody but us knows, and that's how it has to stay. The three men who came with the Lieutenant don't know, and they can't be told. The Colonel's having a rough go of it right now. This has to stay inside these four walls. If I find out any of you blokes told anybody outside this barracks, there's gonna be hell to pay. That person will have to answer to me."

"And me," Carter said.

"And me," LeBeau added joining his friends. His red, wet eyes glared at each of the other prisoners. He wiped a sleeve across his face.

"Do what you think you have to," Simpson explained. "But if the Krauts come after us because of it, I'm gonna contact London myself and tell 'em the truth. Then we can ship the crazy Colonel back to 'em."

Garlotti seized a handful of the Private's shirt and jerked him close. "You keep your mouth shut. We're not giving up on Colonel Hogan. Not until every possible means to help him has been exhausted. He'd do the same for us. Capisce?" (1)

Simpson swallowed hard. "Capisce," he muttered.

"I trust we can count on your cooperation, gentlemen?" asked Newkirk.

"Without a doubt," Olsen said with another look at Simpson.

"Make sure Baker is told," LeBeau added. "Outside of this barracks, Wilson is the only outsider who knows."

"Tell us what we can do to help," Olsen repeated.

* * *

After breakfast, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau sat at the table drinking coffee. Newkirk told Kinch they had told the others everything.

"What can we do?" asked Carter.

Kinch shook his head, his face grim. "First thing is to tell Wilson the Colonel's gotten worse. And it's time we talk to Master Sergeant Wilkerson. But we should discuss it with Wilson before we do that."

"What's Wilkerson gonna do for the Colonel that we can't?"" asked Newkirk.

Kinch sighed. "First, he's a psychologist. Perhaps he can get through to him in a way we can't."

Carter's eyes narrowed as he looked at the radioman. "But Sergeant Wilkerson doesn't know about the Colonel's godson."

"We'll have to tell him before he talks with the Colonel," LeBeau informed him.

"We still have to keep Klink from noticing the Colonel's behavior," explained Carter.

"That's not gonna be easy," Newkirk reminded him. "And how do you propose we do that one may ask?"

Carter scratched his chin. "Well, we could try and keep Colonel Hogan busy so if Klink sees him, he'll think the Colonel's back to himself."

Newkirk rolled his eyes skyward. "Carter, are you sure there's nothing wrong with you? If Klink thinks the Gov'nor's recovering from his grief, it won't take ruddy long before he finds out he isn't. As soon as he talks with 'im he'll know. And what if the Colonel loses his bloody temper with ole Klink as he did with Louie. What happens then, mate?"

Kinch looked at the others. "There's nothing we can do right now. Wilson told Klink the Colonel needed forty-eight hours. The Kommandant thinks the Colonel is grieving. We have today and tomorrow to hopefully help ease the Colonel's pain." He looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, get Wilson. He might be in the infirmary. Tell 'im we need to speak with 'im right away."

"Oui. I am on my way." The Frenchman jumped to his feet and hurried from the barracks.

* * *

Klink sat behind his desk in his office trying to concentrate on his paperwork. But his mind kept returning to yesterday. He tapped his pen on the desk and found himself staring at a spot on the wall. A part of him expected at any moment to see Hogan burst into his office with one of his ridiculous demands. But when it didn't happen, the German officer frowned. Klink will never admit to anyone how much he looked forward to Hogan's interruptions. Especially when he had a mountain of paperwork as he did now. He never realized until now how much he missed the annoying American officer. He found himself hoping Hogan will soon return to his annoying habits.

With a sigh, Klink pulled open his middle desk drawer and took out Lieutenant Carpenter's dog tags. He looked at the flat pieces of metal hanging from a chain. _You blame me for Lieutenant Carpenter and the others being removed from camp, Hogan. That is completely ridiculous. Still, I can't help but wonder why you won't take the Lieutenant's tags? _With a shake of his head, Klink tossed the tags back in the drawer and closed it. Besides, he was positive once Hogan came to terms with the Lieutenant's death, things will return to normal. He cleared his mind and returned to his paperwork.

* * *

Hogan and Terry continued talking in his quarters. Needing a break, Hogan got up from the lower bunk, and walked to the window. He unlocked the frosted windows, opened them, and stared out into the compound, arms folded. But instead of seeing the compound, his eyes were met with the explosion of the Schermerhorn Bridge. He heard the screams of the dying. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and opened his eyes again. The flames from the burning bridge continued to burn brightly lighting up the dark sky. But hearing the screams of people in pain filled his head. Hogan closed the windows and locked them, hoping to keep out the sound. He could not understand why he would be thinking of the bridge.

He turned away from the window and gripped his head in his hands as the headache pounded mercilessly. He looked at his godson who suddenly looked strange to him. His body shimmered and began fading from his sight.

"Don't leave me , Terry. Where are you going? Come back."

The screams of Dray and Toller now intermingled with those from the bridge. Hogan squeezed his eyes shut as the pain in his head intensified. He fell to his knees.

"_Nooooo!"_ Hogan cried out loud. _"Make them stop!_"

The door to his quarters flew open with Kinch being the first one to enter, followed by Carter and Newkirk. The Englander shut the door keeping out the other prisoners. Their collective hearts broke seeing their commanding officer on his knees, on the floor, clutching his head in obvious agony. Kinch and Newkirk carefully helped Hogan to his feet and managed to get him on the lower bunk. Carter stood near the door, paralyzed, tears falling. Newkirk wrapped the blanket around the Colonel and tucked it under his body. The Colonel whimpered. Newkirk glanced over his shoulder at Carter and looked back at the radioman.

"Can you stay with the Gov'nor?" he asked. "I need to get Carter outta here."

"Go ahead. I've got this," Kinch explained. He waited until Newkirk took Carter's arm and guided him out of the smaller room, closing the door. Now alone, Kinch sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his commanding officer.

"Colonel, what's wrong? Are you in pain?" Kinch rested a hand on Hogan's shoulder. Hogan's response to Kinch's questions was a whimper. The pain in his head hadn't lessened. "Talk to me, sir. What's wrong?"

"Make…make them stop," Hogan moaned.

"Make who stop, sir?" Kinch kept his voice calm, but struggled after what he and Newkirk saw. "Tell me." Something had the Colonel in unbelievable agony.

"The voices. Make them stop."

"Voices? What voices?"

"From the bridge. I can still hear them screaming. And Toller and Dray screaming in pain. Now Terry's left me again. I don't know where he went." He grimaced. "Make the voices stop, Kinch. And make Terry come back. Please."

Kinch had no idea what to do. _I wish I could, Colonel. I wish I could._

* * *

In the common room, Carter and Newkirk saw the looks on the faces of the other men.

"We heard the Colonel scream, Newkirk," Addison remarked. "What happened in there?"

"The Gov'nor was sleepin' and had a bloody nightmare," the Englander lied. He hoped the men believed him.

"I'll just bet," Simpson sneered not believing the Englander. He closed his mouth when several men glared at him.

"You callin' me a bleedin' liar, Simpson?"

"Ignore him," Addison said, referring to Simpson. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Kinch is with 'im right now. If anybody can calm Colonel Hogan, it's me mate, Kinch." Newkirk draped an arm around Carter's shoulders and grinned. "Right, Andrew?"

Carter wiped his face with one hand and forced a weak smile to his face. "Right. Kinch can handle anything."

"Then how come you're crying, Carter?" sneered Simpson, determined not be ignored again.

Newkirk started to reply, but Carter answered first.

"I was cryin' because the Colonel told us bits and pieces of his nightmare, and boy was it sad," he lied.

Just then, the barracks door opened and LeBeau walked in with Wilson. Both men at once stopped and looked at the others. They could sense the tension in the air.

"What is going on?" asked LeBeau. "Has something happened to the Colonel?"

Newkirk subtly moved his head indicating for LeBeau and Wilson to head for the table. He and Carter joined them looking relieved to have dodged a bullet again.

"LeBeau said Kinch wanted to speak with me," said Wilson. "Where is he?"

"He's inside with the Gov'nor." Newkirk explained to both Wilson and LeBeau the incident with Hogan in his quarters. At the end, Newkirk brought up Kinch's suggestion to have Wilkerson talk to Hogan. Wilson shook his head and let out a deep breath.

"I had hoped things improved this morning," Wilson explained. "But sadly, the Colonel's deteriorated. I can sedate him again, but nothing else. As to having Sergeant Wilkerson speak with the Colonel, I agree. He might be able to help in ways we can't."

The conversation stopped when the door to Hogan's quarters opened and Kinch walked out. The radioman saw Wilson, walked over to the table and sat beside Newkirk. The radioman let out a deep breath and shook his head.

"Newkirk told me what happened," Wilson began. "How's the Colonel?"

"Frankly Joe, I'm starting to worry." He explained the voices and the Schermerhorn Bridge. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Sacre Chats," LeBeau uttered.

Wilson scratched his chin. "I don't want to comment as I'm no psychiatrist. I need to speak with Sergeant Wilkerson to be sure."

"What do you mean, Joe?" asked Kinch. "What are you trying not to say?"

The medic didn't want to scare Hogan's men anymore than they were. But believed they needed to know. "From what you just told me, I suspect Colonel Hogan may not have gotten over what happened that night at the bridge. Then this happened with the Lieutenant."

"But Colonel Hogan will come back from this, won't he?" Carter asked in a shaky voice.

"His problem may be deeper than any of us realize. But I believe he will recover. It may just take longer than any of us originally thought. I will check on the Colonel, then speak with Sergeant Wilkerson. Perhaps with all of us working together, we can get Colonel Hogan through this."

* * *

(1)Capisce is Italian and means: Do you understand?


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Wilson knocked on the door of the smaller room, getting no answer. He knew Hogan was inside and became concerned. He knocked again, louder this time. Again he got no answer. Determined, he grabbed the doorknob and found the door to be unlocked. He opened it and looked inside the room. The Colonel was stretched out on the lower cot with eyes closed. But Wilson suspected the officer was not asleep, but hoping to fool whoever checked on him. Normally, the medic never entered Hogan's quarters without permission, but he considered his reason important. He walked in and closed the door.

Hogan didn't open his eyes or turn his head. "What do you want, Joe? Another examination?"

Wilson sat his bag on the foot of the lower cot. "How did you know it was me, sir?"

"Who else could it be? Process of elimination."

Wilson smiled faintly. "How are you feeling, sir? Still having a headache?"

"No," Hogan lied. "Just get out and leave me alone."

"I can't do that." Wilson sat on the edge of the Colonel's desk and folded his arms. "Sir, talk to me. Kinch and Newkirk told me what happened before the pain became too much for you to bear. I want to help you. But you need to tell me what's wrong."

"I don't need to tell you a damn thing," Hogan hissed. "I just need for everybody to leave me the hell alone and stop asking me what's wrong." His brown eyes opened and flashed dangerously at the medic. "Now go away!"

"Colonel, talk to me. Please. I want to help you but I can't if you won't talk to me."

Hogan swallowed hard and his lower lip began to tremble. "Please go away, Joe, before I say something we'll both regret."

"Colonel…"

"He doesn't want to talk to you, Wilson," Terry stated. "Why can't you just leave him alone?" He stared at the medic and saw the concern in his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with the Colonel. He's just tired and needs some rest."

Wilson let out a deep breath. "Colonel, you can't keep things bottled up inside because it doesn't help."

"I'm asking you nicely one last time to go away, Joe." Hogan looked at Wilson.

The medic shook his head. He knew what he had to do next.

* * *

Kinch entered the radio room with a heavy heart. The unpleasant task he had put off since yesterday, couldn't be any longer. He found Segal seated at the radio. The two men looked at each other with silent understanding.

"Sergeant, I'm relieving you on the radio for the next hour. I have an important message to send to Allied headquarters and its personal. I prefer to do it alone."

"I understand." Segal removed the headset and placed it on the table before he got to his feet. Kinch adjusted the headset on his head. Segal licked his lips. "Can I ask you a question, Kinch?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I understand Lieutenant Carpenter didn't come back with Toller and Dray. He's dead, isn't he? You can tell me the truth."

Kinch pursed his lips and clasped his hands on top of the table. He eyed Segal. "Yes, he is. I'm sorry. He was shot while trying to escape is the story we've been told."

Segal swallowed the building lump in his throat. He had liked the brash young officer. "I'm sorry. He was like Colonel Hogan in many ways. Kind of easy-going for the most part, yet firm when he had to be. If it weren't for him, we might have been killed instead of captured once Colonel Snyder was killed."

"I understand." Kinch had been told the entire story by Hogan.

Segal paused. "How's the Colonel?"

"He's taking this hard. Believes what happened is his fault."

"There's nothing he could've done," Segal protested. "Hell, he nearly got himself killed trying to stop the Gestapo from taking the men outta camp. He shouldn't blame himself. None of it is his fault."

"Sergeant, when something happens to his men, Colonel Hogan always blames himself. That's the way he is."

Segal nodded and walked away in the direction of another branch of the tunnel. Now alone, Kinch changed the radio frequency to their emergency wavelength.

"Papa Bear to Goldilocks. Papa Bear to Goldilocks. Come in Goldilocks."

"This is Goldilocks, Papa Bear. How can we help you?" a pleasant British female voice asked.

"I need to speak with General Butler, Goldilocks. It's a matter of the utmost urgency."

"Hang on Papa Bear."

Kinch picked up and tapped his pen on the pad lying in front of him. He believed this could be the most difficult message he might ever have to deliver. He had decided Butler did not need to be informed of Hogan's problem.

"General Butler here, Papa Bear. I was told you have a matter of the utmost urgency to discuss with me?"

"Yes, General. We have a message for General Carpenter. We feel it would be better if you passed it on to him yourself."

"Sounds serious. What is the message?"

"It is with deepest sympathy we must inform General Carpenter of the death of his son, Lieutenant Terrance Michael Carpenter." At first Kinch wondered if the connection had been broken.

"I am sorry to hear that news. He was a fine young man, and a promising young officer. What happened?"

"The Gestapo came into camp and arrested him, sir. Word is he was shot while trying to escape. We have not, however, been able to confirm the means of his death."

"But he is deceased?"

"Yes, sir. That much has been confirmed."

"Did the Gestapo uncover the connection between Hogan and the Lieutenant? Do we need to arrange for a mass evacuation of the camp?"

"We don't think so, General. A conversation between a member of the Gestapo and our Kommandant confirms that. If things change, we'll contact you right away."

"I will inform the General of what's happened as soon as I end this conversation. How is Hogan taking the news? I'm aware he's the young man's godfather. General Carpenter always spoke very highly of Hogan, and how much of an influence he was on the young man."

"He's taking the death very hard, sir."

"Tell Hogan not to blame himself. And I'm sure the General won't either. And as soon as he's able, I want to speak with Hogan. Is there anything else to report?"

"Not at this time."

"Thank you for the information, Papa Bear. Goldilocks out."

"Papa Bear out." Kinch turned the dial back to the normal wavelength. He removed the headset, tossed it on the table, and rubbed the back of his neck. He hoped he had handled things well.

"I don't think I could have done that, mon ami," a familiar voice said from behind the radioman. Kinch turned to see the grim face of LeBeau. "I did not intend to eavesdrop. I was in the tunnels looking for you, and ran across Sergeant Segal. He told me you were on the radio and was concerned."

"I'm fine," Kinch explained. At least the Colonel doesn't have to worry now. He's got enough on his plate as it is."

"Oui." LeBeau shook his head. "I cannot begin to imagine how General Carpenter will feel when he is told."

"Neither can I," Kinch agreed. A small smile appeared on the Frenchman's face. "What?"

"Stop beating yourself up, mon ami. You did fine."

Kinch let a faint smile appear. "I hope so," he said. "Is Wilson still with the Colonel?"

"I think so. Why?"

Kinch sighed. "We need to have the Colonel visit Toller and Dray in the infirmary. It won't be long before the men will start to ask why the Colonel isn't checking on his injured men."

"Bonne chance. I went into the Colonel's room before coming to find you. He was staring at the empty chair near his desk."(1)

Kinch let out a deep breath and patted LeBeau on the back. "I'll be back upstairs as soon as I find somebody to relieve me on the radio."

* * *

Wilson walked to barracks eight recalling his recent conversation with Colonel Hogan. He could care for the officer's physical ailments such as illnesses and injuries. But he was not trained in the proper field to offer Hogan the help he needed. Entering the barracks, several of the men acknowledged his presence then carried on with what they had been doing. He knocked on the door of Master Sergeant Matthew Wilkerson. Hearing the voice on the other side say "Enter," Wilson entered the smaller room. He found Wilkerson seated at his desk enjoying a cup of his favorite tea.

"Sergeant Wilson, how can I help you?" asked Wilkerson, surprised to see the medic. "Is somebody sick or injured in the barracks?"

"Everybody's fine. But I do need your help."

"It sounds serious," Wilkerson replied with knitted eyebrows. "Tell me what's on your mind." He waited until the medic sat on the lower bunk facing him.

"It might become serious if you can't help him," Wilson explained with arms on his thighs, hands between his knees.

Wilkerson arched both eyebrows. "Joe, who are we discussing?" The Master Sergeant had a sickening idea who it might be, but needed to be sure. He had heard about the incident with the Gestapo in the compound.

"Colonel Hogan," the medic explained. He waited a few minutes for the shock to register with Wilkerson. Wilson proceeded to explain things to Wilkerson including the relationship between Hogan and Carpenter while Wilkerson sat quietly and listened. When he finished, he studied Wilkerson's face. "Do you think you can help him, Matt?"

Wilkerson rubbed his chin. "What have you done so far for Colonel Hogan, Joe?"

Wilson sighed. "I examined him to determine if there was anything physically wrong with him."

"Was there?"

"No. He was exhausted and could not sleep, so I sedated him. He slept through the night after that. I don't have the proper training to offer him the help I believe he needs. The Colonel hasn't accepted his godson's death. He needs to do that before he can begin to mourn his passing. I could be wrong, but my gut says I'm not."

"Joe, I trust your gut, and so should you."

"I can treat the Colonel and make it possible for him to rest. But that's not going to help. I'm hoping you can help him. Right now, Klink believes the Colonel is grieving the loss of one of his men. If there's one thing I do know about Klink, he isn't going to buy this indefinitely."

Wilkerson let out a deep breath. "Come walk with me to barracks two. I'll talk with the Colonel now and see if I can help."

* * *

Hogan paced back and forth in his quarters rubbing his forehead with both hands. The headache, which began shortly after Wilson had left, was now pounding mercilessly. The pain had since begun to radiate down his spine as well causing his back to hurt. But he found himself unable to stop the negative thoughts running through his mind. (2) Every positive thought he had was replaced by a negative one.

Terry sat in the chair watching his godfather pace back and forth, concerned. He hated to see Hogan this way. The man grimaced from the pain. Terry shook his head sadly and continued watching.

He opened his mouth to say something when a knock on the door made him close it instead. Hogan stopped his pacing and looked around nervously. "Enter," he ordered. He exchanged a concerned look with his godson. When the door opened, Hogan eyed his visitor warily.

"I'll leave you two alone, Rob," said Terry as he started to his feet.

"Stay right where you are, Terry," Hogan replied while staring at Wilkerson harshly. "Why are you here, Matt? I didn't send for you, nor do I need your help. So you can just leave."

The Master Sergeant smiled affectionately at his commanding officer. "I know you didn't, sir. It's that I recently heard the news and believed you might need to discuss your feelings with somebody."

Hogan's eyes narrowed. "And just what were you told? Or need I even ask?" He crossed his arms across his chest. "You were told he was dead, right? Well it's not true! He's alive and sitting right in front of me." He sounded defensive. "Or are you going to stand there and tell me you don't see him?"

Wilkerson maintained his calm exterior as he sat on the lower bunk. "I thought you might want to talk to me, sir. Afterall, he is your godson, and I never met him. What is he like, Colonel?" Wilkerson was aware he had used the present tense when discussing Terry. But he did it on purpose.

Hogan didn't know what to make of Wilkerson's question. But his face softened. "I'm sorry I shouted, Matt. Who told you about Terry?"

"Sergeant Wilson. He said he only met him briefly but found him to be an extremely likeable young man."

With head bowed, Hogan fell against the edge of his desk and nodded. He remained quiet as if struggling internally. Wilkerson sensed the inner struggle and gently prodded the older man hoping to get him to talk. "Colonel, tell me what Terry is like?"

Hogan turned toward the Master Sergeant and sat on the edge of the desk, arms folded. Slowly, he began to tell Wilkerson about his godson. Wilkerson saw tears in Hogan's eyes as he recalled holding his godson in his arms for the first time. Hogan smiled recalling how as an infant, Terry grabbed onto his forefinger and held on tightly.

"I suspected he'd be a pilot," the Colonel said. "He had the kind of grip a pilot would have on the controls of his plane."

Wilkerson nodded. "Was his father a pilot also?"

"Yes. He was one of the best," Hogan recalled fondly.

"So are you, Rob," Terry added with a smile. "You and dad are two of the best pilots in the military. So don't sell yourself short."

Hogan smiled as he looked at the empty chair. "I don't want you to be like me. I am a poor example to follow."

"How can you say that?" asked Terry. "As a kid, Dad was my idol. Still is. But you were my hero. I wanted to emulate you. Dad understood that."

Wilkerson remained quiet as the Colonel carried on his imaginary conversation and responding to questions and statements. It was obvious to him Wilson was correct when he said the Colonel had not accepted his godson's death. The Sergeant understood he needed to tread carefully. Pushing Hogan too far, too fast, might have serious repercussions.

"Colonel, I notice when you talk about your godson, you talk in the present tense."

Hogan sighed wearily, and his eyes narrowed. "You're just like the others. They keep telling me he's dead. I want you to listen carefully. Terry is not dead. He. Is. Alive." The Colonel emphasized each word. "And don't look at me like you think I'm crazy because I'm not."

"Nobody ever said you were, Colonel. The men are concerned. Surely as a commander you can understand that?"

"Of course I understand that," Hogan snapped. "And they need not worry. I don't need help. I'm fine. Terry's fine. And I don't need or want anybody's sympathy or pity. So get out!" Hogan's tone had become hostile now. Wilkerson did not move from where he was seated. "I _said _get out, Matt, before I forget we're friends." Suddenly Hogan squeezed his eyes shut, gripped his head with both hands, and grimaced.

* * *

(1) Bonne Chance means Good luck.

(2) Negative thinking, and back pain and headaches are two of the Twelve Signs of Depression in Men.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Wilkerson was at once on his feet and at Hogan's side. He gently turned the man towards him. "Sir, how bad is the pain?"

"I'm fine," Hogan lied through gritted teeth. The voices continued in his head.

"You are not fine, sir." He led a shaky Colonel to the lower bunk and eased him onto his back. "Let me get Wilson."

"I don't need Wilson," Hogan said, laying an arm over his eyes. "I'll be all right after I rest for awhile." The Sergeant sat beside his commanding officer, watching him. It broke his heart to see this strong man reduced to his current state.

"Tell me what I can do for you, Colonel? There must be something."

"I need the voices to stop. I can hear them screaming in pain in my head."

"What voices are those?"

"Toller and Dray. I can hear their voices as well."

"Sir, what other voices do you hear?" Wilkerson had an idea what Hogan's answer would be. But he needed Hogan to talk about his feelings.

"Claude Benoit and the pregnant woman from the bridge. I can hear their screams in my head. I can see their eyes judging me. They accuse me of their murders." Hogan choked back a sob which didn't escape Wilkerson. Hogan was torturing himself. Punishing himself. The guilt of failing, in his mind, to protect his godson, and save the others had to be extreme. Wilkerson believed the Colonel's guilt was consuming him. He gently pulled Hogan's arm away from his face.

"You should not feel guilty, sir. Trust me. Terry is here with you and unharmed. Toller and Dray are alive and will recover. The bridge was an accident. And Benoit took off before you could stop him. I recall you telling me DuBois had said his nephew was impulsive."

"Doesn't matter. I still failed DuBois. I killed his nephew. I killed Benoit and a pregnant woman I didn't even know. I murdered an innocent child who never got to be born. I also didn't stop the Gestapo from taking the men from camp. It's only luck the three of them are back. I'm a failure as a commander, Matt. The men deserve someone better than me. They deserve somebody who can protect them."

"Don't be silly, Rob," Terry said leaning close to the older man. "You always looked out for me when I was small. Dad trusted you to care for me and mom when he couldn't. I trusted and idolized you as a kid. I wanted to be like you. Always so confident and sure of yourself. The word 'no' never fit into your vocabulary."

"Don't be like me," Hogan pleaded, turning toward him. "I'm not someone you want to emulate. I don't deserve to be trusted or idolized. I get innocent people killed with my carelessness and recklessness. Just promise me you will _never_ be like me."

"Rob…."

"_Promise me, _Terry!"

"Relax, Rob. I promise I will never be like you. But for what it's worth, I still love you." A tender smile appeared on Carpenter's face. The smile touched Hogan's heart, and a small smile appeared on his, easing his headache a bit.

"Don't love me. I don't deserve your affection," Hogan said softly. He turned his head toward Wilkerson. To the Sergeant, Hogan's face seemed to have relaxed a little.

"He promised me he would not be like me, Matt. You heard him say it."

"Yes, I did, sir," Wilkerson said. "How does what Terry agreed to make you feel?"

"Happy that he'll be away from me. That's why I must get him to England as soon-as-possible. So he'll be safe and far away from me."

"And how will you feel once Terry is back in England?"

"Relieved," Hogan replied draping his arm over his eyes again.

Wilkerson nodded his understanding. "How's your head now?"

"I still hear the voices of Toller, Dray, and the others."

"I know a way for you to stop hearing the voices of Toller and Dray."

"How?"

"You could go to the infirmary and visit them, sir. Perhaps then you won't hear them screaming in pain."

"No! I can't do that! I won't! I can't face them!" Hogan began to panic.

"Sir, they've been asking for you. But they understand why you haven't been by yet." Wilkerson kept his voice calm.

"Colonel, other prisoners are asking why you haven't visited your injured men. Even a few guards have asked. If you can't bring yourself to visit them, what do you want us to tell anybody who asks?"

Hogan turned away from Wilkerson and stared at the empty chair again. "I don't care what you tell them. Tell 'em whatever you want. Just leave me alone. I'm tired now."

"All right, sir. You rest now. We'll talk again later." Wilkerson understood he couldn't press the Colonel. He got to his feet and started toward the door. Reaching it, he turned and looked back at the Colonel. "One last thing, sir. Wilson is here. I can have him come in and give you something to help with your headache."

"_No!"_ Hogan's voice was hostile. His eyes reflected anger as he looked at the Sergeant. "I don't need him! And I don't want him!"

"He can make the pain and the voices go away," Wilkerson stated emphatically.

"C'mon, Rob," Terry begged his godfather. "Listen to 'im. Let Wilson help you. Don't be a stubborn jackass for once." Hogan looked at him briefly and sighed.

"Fine. Have him come in, Matt," a disinterested Hogan replied staring at the window. "Then I want both of you to leave me alone."

"Yes, sir." Wilkerson quietly left the smaller room. He was met with several pairs of worried eyes. Everybody started asking questions at the same time. After quieting the men with a look, he sought out Wilson. He found him seated at the table with Hogan's core unit, and approached him.

"Joe, you need to sedate the Colonel again. Make sure it's strong enough so he'll sleep through the night. Then come back out here. We need to talk."

The medic grabbed his bag, made his way to the smaller room, and entered without knocking. Wilkerson waited until the door closed before he sat at the table. He ran a hand over his thick hair while letting out a deep breath. The others exchanged worried looks before turning their attention to the Master Sergeant.

"What happened in there?" asked Newkirk. "We heard the Gov'nor raise his voice."

"I'll answer any questions once Wilson comes back," said Wilkerson. "This way I won't have to repeat everything."

LeBeau jumped up and poured a cup of coffee. He placed it in front of the Sergeant who gratefully took a drink. After one meeting, Wilkerson had formed a working hypothesis. Nearly ten minutes later, the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and Wilson emerged, quietly closing the door behind him. With a shake of his head, the medic rejoined the others at the table.

"How is mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau.

Wilson shrugged his shoulders. "I gave him the strongest sedative I have. He should sleep until sometime tomorrow morning or afternoon." His eyes shifted to Wilkerson. "How did your conversation go with him?"

Wilkerson took another drink of coffee. "Your guess was correct, Joe. The Colonel has not accepted his godson's death. He continued to have conversations with him while I was with him."

"Mon Dieu," cried LeBeau.

Wilkerson held up a hand. "I can't predict how long it will take the Colonel to accept Carpenter's death. As to the voices he's been hearing, he says he hears the screams of Toller, Dray, and others."

"Others?" Kinch inquired.

Wilkerson nodded. "The screams of those who died when the bridge was destroyed."

"I don't understand," Carter looked puzzled. "The Colonel was back to normal again."

"Carter's right," Newkirk agreed. "The Gov'nor was his ole self again, wasn't he, mates?" LeBeau and Kinch nodded in agreement.

Wilson's sudden guilty expression didn't escape Kinch's eyes. "What is it, Joe?"

The medic sighed knowing he was breaking a confidence. "A few weeks ago, the Colonel came to me and asked for sleeping pills. He was so exhausted and couldn't sleep so I gave him four pills."

The core unit looked at each other. "He never told us that," Kinch explained.

"You should have told us," LeBeau's eyes blazed. "We had a right to know if the Colonel needed help."

"He didn't want you to know," the medic continued in his defense. "He told me you'd worry about him, and he didn't want that. So he asked me to keep it quiet which I did. After four days he was back to his usual self again so I didn't give it another thought."

"Now hold on a minute," Kinch held up both hands. "Don't everybody jump on Wilson. The Colonel told him something in confidence. It's not fair to blame Wilson or anybody else for that matter."

"Kinch is right," the Frenchman's face softened. "I apologize for accusing you," he told the medic. "We understand you only had the Colonel's best interest at heart."

Wilkerson took another drink of coffee. "If I had to guess, I'd say the Colonel got the sleep he needed from those pills. He was then better able to bury his emotions." He sighed. "He never really got over what happened. Then this incident with his godson happened and pushed his already fragile emotions to their limits."

Newkirk's green eyes flashed dangerously. "I hope you're not sayin' the Gov'nor's gone around the bend, mate. Because if you are, we are gonna have to have a talk, me and you."

"Not at all. I'm simply saying what I believe based on one conversation with him. It's my opinion the Colonel just needs more time. He'll come around in a few days. I will talk with him tomorrow. Hopefully then I can get him to open up more."

"What about Toller and Dray?" asked Carter. "I went to visit them while you were with the Colonel. They asked me again why he hasn't stopped by yet. I mean, they understand about Lieutenant Carpenter's death, and that the Colonel's upset and everything. But they really want to see him and offer their condolences."

Wilkerson shook his head. "I tried to talk him into visiting them but he won't. Says he can't face them. Right now I wouldn't push him. It might cause him to shut down."

"What are we gonna do about Klink?" asked Newkirk. "He's gonna be expectin' the Gov'nor at roll call come mornin'. What do we do about that, mate?"

"I'll talk with Klink," Wilkerson assured them. "I'll try and buy the Colonel more time."

"But what if Klink won't budge?" asked LeBeau.

Wilkerson let out a deep breath. "I'll let you guys know what he says. Let's not look for trouble right now."

"Matt's right," Wilson agreed. "We could be worrying for nothing."

But the men were still worried. "Will the Colonel get better?" Carter asked the Master Sergeant.

"I believe he will," Wilkerson assured him. "In my opinion, he's still in shock. The reality hasn't hit him. But when it does, it will hit him hard. When it happens, be there for him. Even if he pushes or orders you away." He emptied his coffee cup and got to his feet. "Joe, I want you to come with me when I see Klink as I might need you."

Wilson nodded and got to his feet, grabbing his medical bag. Together, the two men left the barracks and walked across the compound to the Kommandantur. Each one saying a silent prayer.

* * *

Hilda was busy at her desk when the door opened. She looked up from her typing. Wilkerson and Wilson walked inside and approached her desk. She smiled warmly at the two prisoners.

"Hilda, is the Kommandant in his office?" asked Wilkerson, his face unreadable as was Wilson's.

The blond glanced over at the phone on the corner of her desk. A light was lit. She turned back to Wilkerson apologetically.

"He's still on the phone with General Burkhalter. You're welcome to wait. But I have no idea how long he'll be on the phone."

The two men exchanged expressions. With a feigned smile, Wilkerson looked at the secretary. "We'll wait," he said as he and Wilson took seats near the door. "What's Burkhalter want this time? Klink forget to dot the 'i' in his last name?"

Hilda chuckled. "The General's complaining about a missing form the Kommandant didn't send him." She glanced at the phone again. "He's off the phone. You can go in now."

"Thanks, Hilda," Wilson said as he followed Wilkerson who knocked on the inner door. They walked in when Klink gave the order for them to enter from the office.

Klink looked up as the door opened. There was a stack of papers in front of him. Another stack sat just to the side. "Sergeant Wilkerson. Sergeant Wilson. If you have any complaints, tell them to Colonel Hogan and he'll pass them on to me."

"That's why we're here, Kommandant," Wilkerson said as he and Wilson exchanged salutes with Klink. "It's about Colonel Hogan."

The Kommandant's body stiffened as his eyes met those of the two men. "What's happened? Is Colonel Hogan all right? I'm expecting him at roll call tomorrow morning."

The two prisoners sat in the chairs facing Klink's desk. Klink laid his pen on his desk, and clasped his hands on top of the unsigned papers. He looked at both men waiting for one of the two men to say something.

"Sergeant Wilson and I have just come from seeing Colonel Hogan, Kommandant," Wilkerson began as he crossed his legs. "Physically, nothing is wrong with him as Sergeant Wilson here will verify. But as the Colonel is having problems, he asked me to talk with him."

Klink's eyes narrowed. "Problems? What kind of problems?"

Wilkerson was aware he needed to be careful with what he told Klink. He let out a deep breath. "I didn't mean to imply the Colonel was worse. It's just that in my opinion, it's going to take a bit longer than the forty-eight hours Sergeant Wilson originally told you."

"Sergeant Wilkerson, you are the psychologist for the prisoners in Stalag 13. If Colonel Hogan's problem isn't physical, are you telling me his problem is more serious? Is that why he believes Lieutenant Carpenter is still alive?"

"Not at all, Kommandant. All I'm saying is that you can't rush the grieving process. I'm sure you're aware everybody grieves differently. Colonel Hogan just needs more time is all I'm saying."

"How much longer are we talking?"

"Well, today is the second day since Lieutenant Carpenter's death. I'd say at least another five days. He should improve by then. I'm sure of it, sir."

"Is this extra time necessary?" Klink asked suspiciously. "I mean, Colonel Hogan has lost men here from illness and he's never acted this way. What makes this situation different?"

"That's true, sir," Wilson added. "But there's a big difference between losing a man to war, illness or accident, and having one murdered for no reason."

Klink rubbed his chin while lost in thought. He suspected he wasn't being told everything. But he was willing to give Hogan the time he needed, as long as it didn't interfere with running the camp. And General Burkhalter or Major Hochstetter didn't come around asking questions.

"Hmmm. Very well, Sergeant Wilkerson. I will allow Colonel Hogan an extra five days to come to terms with the Lieutenant's death. After that, I make no promises. But Sergeant Schultz will check during roll call to make sure Colonel Hogan is in his quarters. And I promise all prisoners will suffer if he isn't. Is that understood?"

Wilkerson smiled. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"For what it's worth, Sergeant, please tell Hogan I will do whatever I can to help him within reason."

"I will tell him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it, sir."

Klink then looked at Wilson. "How are Sergeant Dray and Corporal Toller doing?"

Wilson let out a deep breath. "As well as can be expected, Kommandant. They're both in a lot of pain. I don't know what damage, if any, was done to Corporal Toller's right eye. I'll know more once the swelling goes away. His eyesight might be impaired, or he might lose it completely."

Klink shook his head and frowned. The Gestapo could be cruel. But he preferred Major Hochstetter compared to Major Braun. What little he knew about the head of the Dusseldorf Gestapo sent chills through his body. "Would it be all right if I stopped by to see them later today?"

Wilson nodded. "I think they would appreciate you stopping by, Kommandant. I'll make sure they know you will be visiting them later."

"Thank you, Sergeant Wilson. I'm sure seeing their injuries didn't ease Colonel Hogan's mind any."

"Uh, the Colonel hasn't seen the men yet, sir."

Klink's eyebrows knitted together. Something was not right. "I find that odd. I would have thought despite his personal grief, Hogan would have at least checked on his two injured men." He studied both men curiously with his eyes landing on Wilkerson. "I feel there is something I'm not being told."

"Not at all, sir," Wilson replied. "Colonel Hogan has assured us he will visit the men in a day or two. He just needs time to pull himself together before he sees them. And he wanted them to get some rest as well."

"I see. Very well. Keep me informed of Colonel Hogan's condition, and that of Corporal Toller and Sergeant Dray."

"Yes, sir," both men replied.

"Dissss-missssed," Klink saluted indicating they could leave. Both men got to their feet and returned the salute. They started toward the door.

"Sergeant Wilson." The medic turned his head to look at Klink.

"Yes, Kommandant?"

"Are you returning to barracks two by any chance?"

"I'm not. But Sergeant Wilkerson is I believe."

Klink turned his attention to the Master Sergeant. "Sergeant Wilkerson. Until Colonel Hogan can resume his duties, you will be the Acting Senior POW."

Wilkerson and Wilson exchanged looks. Wilkerson looked back at the Kommandant. "But, sir, wouldn't it be better to have somebody from the Colonel's barracks act for him? Someone like Sergeant Carter for example?"

"You are a Master Sergeant. Sergeant Carter is a Technical Sergeant. And Sergeant Kinchloe is a Staff Sergeant. You outrank both of them. So, you are the Acting Senior POW until further notice. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, sir," Wilkerson answered. He wasn't looking toward taking over for Hogan. But he would do his best to keep things running smoothly until Hogan was able to resume his duties. "Is that all, Kommandant?"

"Not quite. There will be a special roll call ordered at once and you will be introduced as the Acting Senior POW. Have Sergeant Schultz report to me on the double."

"Yes, sir."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

An hour after roll call the following morning, Wilkerson walked to barracks two from his own barracks. There was something important he needed to discuss with Hogan's unit. While walking, his mind wandered back to yesterday after he and Wilson had left the Kommandant's office. First came the roll call to introduce him to as the Acting Senior POW to the men. That was followed by his returning to barracks two and informing Hogan's men of his conversation with Klink. Privately, he had tried to talk Klink into choosing somebody else, but his request was denied. But he promised the men he'd do his best until Hogan came back. He advised the team Kinch will be in charge of the operation during Hogan's absence. Once he reached the barracks, Wilkerson opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him. He found the men he sought finishing breakfast.

"Care for breakfast?" LeBeau asked the Master Sergeant.

"No thanks. Just coffee." Wilkerson sat beside Kinch. Getting to his feet, the Frenchman grabbed a coffee cup and poured it full of steaming hot coffee. He sat the cup in front of Wilkerson. Wilkerson took a drink of the hot liquid.

"So how is it being the Senior POW?" asked Carter with a sheepish grin.

"The Colonel can have his job back as soon as he's well," Wilkerson joked. He took another drink of coffee. "Has Wilson been here yet this morning?" He looked at the men.

"He stopped by after evening roll call to check on the Colonel," LeBeau explained. "He found him still asleep. He came right after roll call this morning. He is in with mon Colonel now." No sooner had the words left the Frenchman's mouth, then the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and the medic appeared. He closed the door behind him.

Wilson sat beside Newkirk and placed his medical bag beside him. Kinch poured him a cup of coffee. The medic gratefully took a drink.

"The Colonel is still sleeping peacefully," he explained tiredly. "He should wake up sometime within the next several hours. Have somebody come and get me when he wakes. I'll be in the infirmary."

"No problem," Kinch replied. "How are Toller and Dray this morning?" he asked after a short pause.

Wilson sighed. "The same. Their recovery will be painful." He took another drink. "But we may have another problem."

"And what might that be?" asked Newkirk while lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. The last thing any of them needed was another problem.

"Wilkerson and I told Klink yesterday the Colonel will visit the infirmary in a day or two. If he doesn't, he'll know we lied to him." Wilson looked at Wilkerson with worry on his tired face.

"I'll speak with Colonel Hogan when he awakens. Maybe I can convince him to come to the infirmary for a short visit," Wilkerson added.

"But what if you can't?" asked Newkirk. "I mean, what if the Gov'nor refuses like he did yesterday?"

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "We should have what you call a backup plan just in case."

"He's right, Matt," Wilson added. "Any ideas?"

Wilkerson let out a deep breath and looked around the hut. Coming up with ideas were not his strong suit; it was Hogan's. His eyes landed on one particular man, and a slow smile appeared. "There's no need to speak with Colonel Hogan," he said. "He will visit the men in the infirmary without knowing it." He waved at the man in question and gestured for him to join them.

Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter and Wilson exchanged confused looks. They had no idea what was on Wilkerson's mind.

An amused grin crossed Kinch's face. "You're gonna have Olsen pretend to be Colonel Hogan and visit the infirmary, aren't you?" he asked.

"Dressed in the Colonel's jacket and cap, he will fool anybody who doesn't get too close," Wilkerson explained as Olsen joined them. He looked at the young Sergeant. "How 'bout it, Olsen? Would you like to be a Colonel for a short while?"

Olsen smiled. He never had to stand in for Hogan often, and never to fool Klink. He found himself wanting to see if he could fool the Kommandant.

The others became excited at the prospect. But Carter brought them back to reality.

"Wouldn't that make Klink think the Colonel's getting better?" he asked.

"It might," Kinch explained. "But remember what Sergeant Wilkerson told us yesterday? He and Wilson got Klink to agree to give Colonel Hogan more time. If we play it carefully, it will look like the Colonel's slowly getting over his grief."

But Carter was still not completely convinced. "I hate to be a spoilsport. But suppose the Colonel needs more time?" Everybody stared at him. "What?" Carter asked looking around in confusion. "I just thought I'd ask."

Newkirk shook his head as he took another drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke. "Unfortunately, you read me worried mind," he said before looking at Wilkerson grimly. "You got anything planned for that possibility, mate?"

"Yeah…" Olsen agreed. "I could never stand in for Colonel Hogan during roll call. Klink will know I'm not the Colonel in an instant. He'd start asking questions we can't answer."

Wilkerson exhaled deeply. He didn't want to worry the men by admitting he had been thinking the same as Carter. He believed Hogan was having a rough time right now. And he had to stay positive for the men. "Not yet. But we might not have to. Colonel Hogan is a strong man. Once he accepts his godson's death, his healing can begin." He studied the medic's troubled face. "What's bothering you, Joe?"

"Toller and Dray will know it's not Colonel Hogan as soon as they see him. How do we work around that?"

"I think I have the solution," Wilkerson explained. "You said both Toller and Dray are in pain, right?" Wilson nodded. "Well, what if you give them enough of a sedative to knock them out for two or three hours without telling them? Just long enough so they'll both be asleep when the Colonel comes to visit them."

Wilson grinned. "Matt, are you sure you haven't been hanging around Colonel Hogan too much? Even he would admire your plan."

Wilkerson smirked. "One can always learn something from Colonel Hogan if he pays attention." He drained his coffee cup and got to his feet. "Well, since I'm the Acting Senior POW, I'd better walk around the compound and check on the other men. I'll come back later today and talk with the Colonel. Then before final roll call, Olsen will visit the infirmary disguised as the Colonel. LeBeau, you and Newkirk will go with him as if you're supporting him. I'll be in Klink's office and make sure he sees the three of you heading toward the infirmary. That should satisfy our Kommandant for awhile." After saying goodbye to the men, Wilkerson left the hut.

"Boy," Carter said with a child-like grin on his face. "That was a great idea Sergeant Wilkerson had."

"Most definitely," added LeBeau. "He will do Colonel Hogan proud." He turned his head toward the medic. "Do you want more coffee, Joe?"

"No thanks." Wilson got to his feet and grabbed his bag. "I'd best head back to the infirmary and check on my patients. Remember to have somebody come and get me when the Colonel awakens." That said, the medic left the barracks leaving the men seated at the table.

* * *

It was an hour after lunch when an incident happened which frightened the men out of their minds.

LeBeau was finishing up the lunch dishes. Carter, Olsen, and Newkirk were playing gin rummy. Kinch was playing solitaire at the other end of the table. The other men in the barracks were out in the afternoon sunshine enjoying their one hour of exercise.

"Gin," Newkirk smirked. Olsen and Carter threw their cards on the table in disgust. The Englander gathered up the discarded cards.

"Boy," said Carter as Newkirk shuffled the deck. "That's three hands in a row he's won."

"Don't remind me," Olsen added.

As Newkirk continued shuffling the cards, he glanced over at the little Frenchman.

"Hey, LeBeau, wanna join us for the next game?" he asked.

LeBeau was drying the last dish when he looked at the Englander with a smile. "Non. I think I will…." He never got to finish his sentence. A scream coming from Hogan's room made him drop the dish he was drying; it shattered on the floor. The five men abandoned what they were doing and ran to the smaller room. Kinch reached the door first and pushed it open. He paused, his heart in his throat. The others gathered around him staring wide-eyed, jaws dropped.

Hogan was curled up in a fetal position on the lower bunk, eyes wide with terror and staring at the window. He didn't acknowledge their presence.

"Make them go away," he stammered staring at the closed window. "Make them leave me alone!"

Kinch turned to the others and motioned for them to leave. Then he looked at Carter. "Get Wilson and tell him to bring his bag with him," he said in a low voice. Carter glanced at the radioman, nodded, and hurried away. Kinch then quietly closed the door keeping the others out. He approached the bed and sat on the edge studying his commanding officer. He reached out a hand carefully and touched Hogan's shoulder. The Colonel shrank away from his touch. Kinch withdrew his hand and put it in his lap.

"Colonel, look at me," he said. "Please."

Hogan shifted his eyes to the radioman. Kinch saw the fear in them.

"Make them go away," Hogan begged the radioman. To Kinch, Hogan sounded as a small child might begging his parent for something. It broke Kinch's heart. "They're in my room. Make them leave me alone." Hogan whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut tightly as if trying to block out the ghosts he saw alone.

"Who, Colonel? Who won't leave you alone? Tell me. I'll make them go away. I promise."

"That woman from the bridge and Claude Benoit. They taunt me. They accuse me of murder. I murdered the woman's baby. I'm a baby killer. And Claude accuses me of letting him die on purpose. I'm a murderer. Terry won't forgive me for killing an innocent baby. I'm by myself with them. Make them leave me alone, Kinch."

"What makes you think Terry doesn't forgive you? He knows it was an accident and wasn't your fault."

"He's gone. Soon as they showed up and he heard I killed an innocent woman and her unborn baby, he left me alone with them. Said he couldn't stay with a man who murdered a baby. He left me all alone."

Kinch let a few minutes pass in silence before he spoke again. "They're gone, Colonel. You can open your eyes now." Hogan cautiously opened his eyes and glanced around the room. He looked again at Kinch. "They're gone. Thank you, Kinch, for making them leave. Can you make Terry come back? Klink made him leave. I bet he's the one who told Terry. He's responsible again for my godson leaving me. Make him come back, Kinch. Tell him I'm sorry."

Kinch was at a loss. He had no idea what to do. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could reply, the door opened. Wilson walked in alone and closed the door. Kinch made room for Wilson to work. "Wilson is here, Colonel. He's gonna help you now." The radioman looked at Wilson and motioned with his hand for the medic to join him. With a last glance at Hogan, Kinch kept his voice low as he explained what happened. Wilson nodded his understanding, and approached the bunk. Kinch turned back once he approached the door. "I'll be right outside, Colonel, if you need me again. But nobody's gonna hurt you. We won't let them. Meanwhile, I'm gonna search for Terry and convince him to come back." Hogan gave him a small grateful smile. He left the room quietly closing the door behind him.

Kinch was instantly surrounded by the others who bombarded him with questions.

"What happened in there, Kinch?" asked Newkirk.

The radioman repeated what happened. The others exchanged worried looks.

"Sounds as if the Colonel is getting worse to me," LeBeau said.

"What do we do now?" asked Olsen. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Kinch gestured with his head for them to follow him away from the closed door. They continued their conversation once they were standing beside the table.

"One thing we're gonna do is keep this among the five of us, Wilson and Wilkerson," Kinch explained. "Nobody else can find out what happened. Nobody."

The opening of the door behind them caught their attention. Wilson, with a shake of his head, emerged from the room and closed the door. He looked grim. When he saw the others, he joined them, and sat his bag on the table. He let out a deep breath and frowned.

"Joe? What is it? The look on your face is scaring us," said Kinch.

"Gentlemen, we have a serious problem and I'm not sure what we can do."

"What problem?" asked Olsen.

Before Wilson could explain, the barracks door opened and Wilkerson entered. He closed the door behind him. "I saw Wilson and Carter hurrying toward the barracks, and came as fast as I could. What's happened? Is the Colonel awake?"

Again Kinch repeated what happened in Hogan's quarters. The Master Sergeant grimaced as he listened. When the radioman was finished, he turned to the medic.

"What happened?" he asked.

Wilson nodded and began to explain as the others listened quietly.

* * *

Klink looked up from his paperwork, startled by the sound he had heard. Looking around his office, his eyes fell on the open windows suspecting the sound had come from somewhere in the compound. It had sounded as if somebody screamed but he was not sure. Puzzled, he got to his feet and walked over to the window. He peered out at the compound and watched the prisoners participating in their hour of daily exercise. Shouting and laughter came from the men. Nobody looked as if they were in pain. Figuring he must have been mistaken, Klink shrugged his shoulders, returned to his desk, and returned to his paperwork.

* * *

The mood in the barracks was somber after Wilson had finished talking. The men looked stunned at what they had been told.

"Are you sure, Joe?" asked a grim-faced Wilkerson.

"I'm not a psychologist, but I'm sure. While I examined him, I got the impression the Colonel was not aware of my presence. Then he suddenly glared at me with such intense hatred, I was afraid for my safety. He ordered me and I quote: 'Get the fuck away from me.' Unquote. I tried talking to him calmly and explain I was not gonna hurt him. Then without warning, he apologized and let me finish the exam. I had just finished when he got this frightened expression on his face, claimed they had come back for him. He is staring into space with what you might call an unseeing stare. He has no interest in anything."

"How can you tell?" asked Carter.

"Easy," Wilson continued. "I tried talking to him, but got no response. He just lays there and stares into space with a blank expression. But I don't think he's catatonic though."

"Why not?" asked Kinch.

"Because despite what I just explained, I noticed his eyes follow me wherever I went while in his quarters. If he was catatonic he wouldn't do that. He would just lay there, stare into space, and be completely unaware I was there."

"What's catatonic mean?" asked Carter, truly puzzled. He had no idea what the word meant.

"It's a condition characterized by a marked lack of movement, activity, or expression by the person affected," Wilkerson explained.

"I thought the Colonel was sad?" Carter asked.

"He is, Carter," Wilson saw Newkirk roll his eyes. He suspected the Englander was losing his patience with the naive young Sergeant. He put a hand on Newkirk's arm silencing him. "I worked in a mental hospital for a short time before the war, and learned a few things. It's the unhappiness that can sometimes cause the catatonic condition." He looked at Wilkerson who nodded in agreement. "Once the unhappiness starts to lift, the catatonic symptoms diminish. Am I right, Matt?"(1)(2)

Wilkerson nodded and rubbed his forehead as a headache was beginning. "We definitely have a problem. But it might not be as serious as believed. Since the Colonel doesn't sound catatonic, it's possible he's beginning to accept his godson's death. But his mind is fighting to continue protecting itself from the truth. Him shutting down might be because his mind still can't accept the truth. But regardless, we have to keep Klink away from him."

"How?" asked Olsen.

"Once Klink sees you dressed as Hogan heading to the infirmary, he'll be satisfied and leave the Colonel alone for four more days. At the same time we have to hope the Colonel snaps out of it." He paused for a short time. "But I suggest he not be left alone until he does. Somebody will have to sit with him constantly. This way we can hopefully catch any new problems right away."

"Another thing," Wilson added. "We cannot under any circumstances, let Klink know somebody is sitting with the Colonel. He would know right away something is wrong."

"I'll take the first two hour shift," Kinch volunteered. "We'll decide the other shifts and let you know within the hour," he added looking at Wilkerson. The Master Sergeant nodded.

"That will be fine. Gentlemen, if Lady Luck is on our side, we'll be able to pull this off."

"And that Colonel Hogan will come back to us," Newkirk added.

"And that nobody will suspect a thing. Mainly the Bosche." LeBeau got to his feet and tied his apron around his waist. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. Right now he needed to stay busy. He fumbled around for a pot.

"What are you doing, LeBeau?" asked Kinch watching him, worried.

"The Colonel did not eat any lunch or breakfast. He must be hungry. I will prepare something for him." He kept his eyes averted from the others as he spoke.

* * *

(1) In the United States, Virginia is recognized as the first state to establish an institution for the mentally ill. It was founded in 1773.

(2) Catatonia is a state of neurogenic motor immobility and behavioral abnormality manifested by stupor. It was first described by Karl Ludwig Kahlbaum in 1874.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

LeBeau held the bowl of broth he had prepared for the Colonel, and stood outside the officer's quarters. He knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again but louder. He still got no response. With a deep breath, LeBeau turned the doorknob, quietly opened the door, and looked in the room. Hogan lay on his side facing the window, staring into space. He didn't acknowledge the Frenchman's entrance into the room, nor the closing of the door.

"I prepared some broth for you, mon Colonel," LeBeau explained his eyes on Hogan. "You did not eat breakfast or lunch, and I thought you might be hungry." Hogan did not respond. "Please Colonel, you have to eat something. You will make yourself ill." Again there was no response. LeBeau apprehensively took a few steps closer until he stood beside the bed. "I will leave it here for you. That way, you can eat it later." He sat the bowl on the desk and turned to find Hogan's eyes focused on him.

LeBeau crouched down and brought his face close to Hogan's. "You are hurting, Colonel. Your pain is our pain. Just remember you can lean on us. We are here for you." With Hogan not responding to his words, LeBeau bit his lower lip and shook his head in dismay. He got to his feet and walked to the door. He paused and looked back at his commanding officer. Before him was a broken man, a man who had lost his way. Not the strong confident leader he was accustom to seeing. The Frenchman smiled affectionately at his commander. "Mon Colonel, you are, how do you Americans say, lost in the darkness right now. If you let us help you, we will guide you back into the daylight."

Hogan didn't utter a single word. Instead, he shifted his eyes away from LeBeau and back to the empty chair in front of him with a sad expression.

Once he realized he wouldn't be getting an answer from Hogan, LeBeau shook his head again and quietly left the room.

* * *

After dinner, LeBeau entered his commanding officer's quarters, accompanied by Newkirk. When they emerged from the smaller room, LeBeau carried the bowl of broth, and Newkirk carried Hogan's jacket and crush cap. LeBeau dumped the bowl's contents in the sink.

"From your expression, I'm guessing the Colonel didn't touch his food," said Kinch watching LeBeau wash the bowl. He had seen the Frenchman's disheartened expression.

"Non," LeBeau replied not looking at the radioman. "He has not eaten anything all day. All he did is watch us when we came in his room. He didn't even say anything when Pierre took his jacket and cap. He continued to stare at us with a blank expression the entire time we were there."

"I tell ya, Kinch," Newkirk began. "It breaks me heart seein' the Gov'nor like this. I just hope he comes out of it soon." He looked around the barracks. "Where's Olsen?"

"He and Sergeant Wilkerson went to talk with Wilson," Kinch explained. He checked the time. "They should be here any minute." No sooner had he finished talking when the door opened and in walked Wilkerson followed by Olsen. Both men at once sensed something was wrong.

"What's happened?" asked Wilkerson.

"The Colonel did not touch the broth I prepared for him," LeBeau explained.

Wilkerson sighed. He had been afraid this might happen, but hoped he was wrong. He eyed the men. "We have to get food into him somehow. I'll talk to Wilson." He eyed Newkirk, Olsen, and LeBeau. "Meanwhile, Wilson has sedated both Toller and Dray so they'll both sleep for about eight hours. He told them he was giving them a pain killer instead. The Colonel will visit with them for about an hour, then return to the barracks."

"Gotcha," Newkirk nodded. "When do we start?"

Wilkerson checked the time. "Give me a few minutes head start. I'll head to Klink's office and keep him busy. Carter, remember, when I stand at the open window in Klink's office, that will be the signal. Newkirk, Olsen and LeBeau leave the barracks and head for the infirmary." He looked at the radioman. "Kinch, I need you to sit with the Colonel. Hopefully, there won't be any problems which will arouse suspicion. Good luck everybody." With a final glance, Wilkerson turned and left the barracks.

The minute the door closed, Carter went to the door and cracked it open. As he did so, Newkirk held up the leather jacket for Olsen. The Sergeant zipped it up half-way like Hogan. He sat the crush cap on his head and pushed it back. Olsen turned to Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch.

"Well?" he asked. "Think I'll fool Klink?"

"You could fool me own sister," Newkirk joked. "And I gave Mavis a description of the Gov'nor in one of me letters to her a while back."

Carter, smirking, looked at his best friend. "Didn't she write back saying she thought the Colonel sounded kinda cute from your description?"

"Shut your gob and wait for the signal," Newkirk growled while Olsen, Kinch, and LeBeau broke out in laughter. Carter turned back to the cracked open door. He was glad Newkirk hadn't seen the amused grin on his face.

Kinch got to his feet. "I'd better go sit with the Colonel in case he needs help. Good luck guys." He walked in the direction of the smaller room.

* * *

Klink was leaning back in his chair with both feet up on his desk. Instead of working on his paperwork, he was drooling over a photo of a woman in a bathing suit in Sexy Frauleins magazine. A knock on the door had him hastily shove the magazine in his middle desk drawer and sit up straight in his chair. "Come in," he ordered returning to his mountain of paperwork. He looked up when the door opened and Hilda stood inside the door.

"Sergeant Wilkerson is here, Herr Kommandant," she announced.

"Can't you tell I'm drowning in paperwork here," Klink complained. "I have no time right now. Tell him to come back later."

"He says it's about Colonel Hogan."

"Well don't leave the man standing out there waiting. Tell him to come right in, Fraulein Hilda."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Klink put down his pen as Wilkerson strode past Hilda and into his office. Hilda shut the door behind her leaving the two men alone. Klink and Wilkerson exchanged salutes.

"I understand you wanted to speak with me about Colonel Hogan, Sergeant?" Klink asked, looking at Wilkerson.

"Yes, sir. I know how concerned you are about the Colonel, sir. And I wanted to update you on his condition."

"That's good of you, Sergeant. How is Colonel Hogan?"

"A bit better, Kommandant. I believe he is beginning to accept that Lieutenant Carpenter is dead. But of course he still blames himself." Out of the corner of his eye, Wilkerson noticed the window was slightly open for which he was grateful. "I believe he will be all right in time."

"That's good to hear, Sergeant. Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yes, sir. Since I am the Acting Senior POW, I would like you to give me Lieutenant Carpenter's dog tags. I think in time I can convince the Colonel to write a condolence letter to the Lieutenant's family."

"I don't have a problem with that." Klink started to open his middle desk drawer. Not seeing the tags right away, a frown appeared on his face. He suspected they might be hidden beneath the magazine. At the same time, Wilkerson walked over to the window and opened it wider. He stared out at the few prisoners still out in the compound. If things were going according to plan, Carter would be watching and signal Olsen, Newkirk and LeBeau. "Ah, here they are," Klink replied reaching carefully beneath the magazine while trying to keep it hidden. He had no idea that Wilkerson knew about the Kommandant's fondness for the girlie magazines from Hogan and Schultz. "What's happening?" Klink asked holding the tags in his hand and closing the drawer. "Why are you looking out the window?"

Wilkerson looked back at Klink with a slight smile. "You won't believe this, Kommandant," he said. "But Colonel Hogan has left his barracks."

"Are you sure?" Klink asked getting to his feet and joining the Sergeant at the window. A faint smile appeared on Klink's face. "You're right. It is Hogan. But why are two men with him? And where is he going?"

"I think he might be heading to the infirmary, sir. We've been telling him Toller and Dray have been asking for him. But he was so guilt-ridden not being able to keep the Gestapo from taking them from camp, he couldn't face them."

"But that wasn't his fault," Klink explained. He knew how protective Hogan was of his men and they of him. Whenever something happened to one of his men, the American officer always blamed himself. "He would have been killed himself if he had continued to interfere with the Gestapo that day."

"He knows that, Colonel. But he still blames himself. LeBeau and Newkirk are with him as I thought it would be a good idea. In case he needed help or support, someone is with him. He's still somewhat shaky."

"Excellent idea, Sergeant." Klink turned away from the window, and dropped the tags into Wilkerson's hand. "Here are Lieutenant Carpenter's tags. Let me know when Colonel Hogan has written the Lieutenant's family."

"Yes, sir," Wilkerson replied closing his fingers over the tags. "But it might take a bit of time before he does and I don't want to push him. Pushing him could do more harm than good."

"I understand," Klink replied taking a final look at the three men before he closed the windows and turned the latch locking them. He walked back around his desk and sat down in his chair. "You're doing good work with Colonel Hogan, Sergeant. With your help and a bit of luck, Hogan could be back to himself soon."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you wish to know before I leave, Kommandant?"

"No. That will be all. Dissss-missssed." Klink and Wilkerson exchanged salutes before the Master Sergeant turned and started toward the door. Grabbing and turning the doorknob, he opened the door and started to leave.

"One moment, Sergeant."

Wilkerson paused and looked back. "Yes, sir?"

"I was thinking…." Klink tapped his pen against his jaw. "Would it be all right if I stopped by later this evening and visit Colonel Hogan?"

Wilkerson felt his heart stop beating at that moment. He did not expect the Kommandant's question and had to think quickly. He struggled to keep the panic off his face. "I wouldn't stop by this evening, Kommandant. In fact, I would give it a few days after he visits the infirmary. I can inform you when he's able to see people." He held his breath and hoped Klink bought his tale.

Klink let his pen rest against his jaw. "Hmmm. I certainly don't want to set back Colonel Hogan's recovery in any way. Very well, Sergeant. I will wait for you to tell me when it's all right to visit if you think that's best."

"I will, sir," Wilkerson exhaled and could feel his heart start again. He walked out of the office and closed the door letting Klink return to his paperwork or his magazine.

* * *

LeBeau, Newkirk, and Olsen all let out a deep breath once they realized they were out of sight of the Kommandantur.

"I can't believe we got away with it," Newkirk sighed with a shake of his head. "I thought we'd had it for sure." He looked at Olsen. "You all right, mate?"

"I will be," Olsen replied with a nervous smile.

"Uh oh," LeBeau warned.

"What now?" asked Newkirk.

"Strudel King at twelve o'clock," LeBeau explained. Newkirk and Olsen both stared.

"And he's seen us," Newkirk complained. "Blimey, and he's coming this way." He looked around calmly while his stomach was doing somersaults. "There's no bleedin' way to avoid 'im. Olsen, keep your head down and maybe we can pull it off."

"Guess we'll find out how much he wants to help the Colonel," LeBeau uttered.

Schultz spotted the trio right away and a wide smile appeared on his face at the man in the leather jacket. He hurried closer. "Colonel Hogan, I am so happy to…" he suddenly stopped talking as the trio hurried past him.

"No time to stop and chat, Schultzie," Newkirk grinned innocently. "The Gov'nor's in a bit of a hurry."

"_Halt!"_ the large man bellowed causing the three men to freeze in their tracks. Schultz approached them. "About face!" The trio slowly turned and faced the guard with Olsen keeping his head bowed.

"Something wrong, Schultzie?" asked LeBeau innocently.

Schultz approached Olsen and looked at him closely. "Look at me," he ordered. Olsen reluctantly raised his head. The guard's eyes widened. "You are not Colonel Hogan. You are Sergeant Olsen."

Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged laughter. "Y'hear that, Louie? Ole Schultzie doesn't recognize Colonel Hogan when he sees 'im."

"You need to have your eyes checked," LeBeau chuckled. "This is Colonel Hogan. He only looks different because he has not been himself the last few days, that's all." He patted the guard's large stomach. "Come by later, mon ami. I will have some strudel for you."

The guard's eyes took on a dreamy look at the mention of his beloved apple strudel. But just as suddenly, his face changed and he stared at the three men. "You are not talking to a Dummkopf. This is not Colonel Hogan." He shook a finger at Olsen. "You could be in big trouble for impersonating an officer. Shame on you." Schultz spotted one of the guards approaching from behind the men. "It is so good to see you up on your feet, Colonel Hogan," he said as the other guard came closer. "I hope this means you are feeling better." The other guard, a Private, passed the men by with barely a glance. Once he was out of hearing range, the three men looked at Schultz.

"Thanks for not giving us away, Schultz," Olsen replied.

"Don't thank me," Schultz told him. "Just be careful. You're only lucky that Private Mueller is a new man and only here a short time. How is Colonel Hogan?"

"Still the same," Newkirk explained. He and the others agreed to be careful how much to tell Schultz about Hogan's deteriorating condition.

"What do you intend to do now?" asked a worried Olsen.

"Where are you three going anyway?" asked the guard.

"Colonel Hogan is going to visit his two injured men in the infirmary," LeBeau explained.

"The infirmary? But…but…the two injured prisoners will know right away Olsen is not Colonel Hogan."

"Don't worry yourself 'bout that, mate. We've got it all under control."

A worried expression crossed the guard's face. "Do I want to know?" When the Englander started to reply, Schultz stopped him. "On second thought, I would rather not."

"Wise choice," LeBeau agreed.

"I think so," Schultz smirked. "Now, I must return to my post." He looked at LeBeau. "What time should I come by for the strudel, cockroach?"

LeBeau poked Schultz in his stomach. "Not to worry, Schultzie. You'll know."

With a contented sigh of the delicious treat to come later, the guard walked away and left the men looking at his receding back.

* * *

Klink was once again leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, the girly magazine in his hands. He ignored the phone when it rang figuring Hilda would answer it. But it continued to ring and ring. Klink grumbled and guessed his secretary was away from her desk. He sat upright in his chair and grabbed the receiver.

"Klink speaking," he answered, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He swallowed hard and shoved the magazine back in his desk drawer. "Oh, General Burkhalter." He chuckled nervously. "I beg your pardon, Herr General. What? Yes, sir. Shut up and listen."

"Klink, I haven't heard from you in several days about Colonel Hogan's behavior. Is there anything I should know?" Burkhalter asked.

"You'll be pleased to hear that I saw Colonel Hogan leaving his barracks earlier and going to the infirmary to visit his two injured men, sir."

"Did you speak with Hogan, Klink?"

"Speak with him, sir? Why would I need to speak with him?"

"Because, Dummkopf, how he acts and how he looks are two different things. Now did you speak with him at all?"

"No, sir. I only saw him."

"Klink, what am I going to do with you?"

Klink laughed nervously. "Well, sir, I might suggest a promotion?"

"Forget it. Things are tough enough for our side in this war. Now listen carefully, Klink. I want you to speak with Hogan. Find out if he is truly getting back to normal, and call me back later. I will be expecting your call."

"But, sir, Sergeant Wilkerson suggested I not visit Colonel Hogan for a few days after he visits the men in the infirmary, and I…"

"Are you disobeying the direct order of your superior officer?"

"No, sir. It's that Sergeant Wilkerson…"

"If I wanted the opinion of a prisoner, I would ask to speak with Sergeant Wilkerson. You will talk with Hogan yourself and report back to me or I can have you in Stalingrad by morning. _Understood?!"_

Klink swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir," he stammered. He cringed when he heard the slamming of the phone on the other end before he hung up himself.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Klink sat staring at the phone for several minutes after his call with the General had ended. He guessed he might speak with Sergeant Wilkerson about his predicament, but dismissed the thought at once. The man had told him not to visit the American for a few days as it might set back Hogan's recovery. With a groan, Klink rested his head between two clenched hands. He began seeing himself in a pair of snowshoes, shivering outside in falling snow. And surrounded by armed Russians with the names of Ivan and Boris. Then Klink raised his head and straightened up in his chair as a realization came to him. He was the Kommandant of Stalag 13 and didn't need to discuss his predicament with anybody; especially a Sergeant. No, he'd head to the infirmary, and speak with Hogan for a few minutes. He got to his feet, grabbed his coat and cap from the coat tree, and left his office. He nearly ran into Hilda who, at the same time, was entering the outer door leading to the compound.

"If anybody asks for me, tell them I'm out of the office," Klink said shrugging into his coat. "I should return in an hour or two. Just take a message."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

* * *

Olsen and Wilson both sat at the medic's desk. LeBeau was seated in a chair between the cots on which slept Toller and Dray. He kept his thoughts to himself. Newkirk stood at the cracked open door of the infirmary to keep an eye out for unwanted visitors.

Olsen rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Toller and Dray. He shifted his eyes to Wilson. "How are they doing, Joe? Will they be all right?"

Wilson let out a deep breath. "They will in time. I'm still worried about Toller's right eye, though. The sooner his eye can be examined by a doctor, the better I'll feel."

LeBeau looked up at the medic. "But his eyesight can be saved, can't it?"

Wilson shrugged as he looked at the Frenchman. "I don't know. I hope it can. As the saying goes, only time will tell."

LeBeau sighed. "Filthy Bosche."

"Klink's coming this way!" Newkirk warned them shutting the door. He joined the others.

Wilson, Olsen, and LeBeau jumped to their feet.

"Sacre Chats," LeBeau muttered. He looked at Newkirk. "What are we going to do now?"

Newkirk grabbed Olsen by the arm and shoved him in the direction of the back room where there was a hidden tunnel entrance. "One thing is get Olsen outta here. If ole Klink sees 'im the game's over, mate." He started to follow Olsen.

"What do I do?" asked LeBeau.

"Stay here with Wilson," Newkirk ordered from the doorway of the back room. "Stall Klink. Tell 'im he just missed catchin' the Colonel."

"D'accord."(1)

LeBeau and Wilson waited until the Englander disappeared into the back room. The medic returned to his chair, while LeBeau took the chair Olsen had vacated. Several minutes later, Klink walked in the infirmary. He looked around and frowned.

"Something I can do for you, Kommandant?" Wilson asked looking up as the German officer came closer.

"I was hoping Colonel Hogan was still here, Sergeant," Klink said.

"You just missed mon Colonel, Kommandant," LeBeau said with a smile. "He left ten minutes ago. He decided to stay only a few minutes."

"That's right, Kommandant," Wilson added. "The Colonel complained of not feeling well."

Klink looked at the two men with suspicion. "I didn't see Hogan leave. And where is Newkirk, hmmm?"

"He didn't want the Colonel to leave by himself," LeBeau explained. "He went with him to make sure he'd be all right."

Klink looked back and forth between the two men. "Did Hogan indicate where he was going before he left here?"

LeBeau shrugged. "I'm not sure, sir. He said something about needing to see Master Sergeant Wilkerson."

Klink nodded his head as the Sergeant was a psychologist. He glanced at the two sleeping men. "How are they doing, Sergeant Wilson?"

Wilson sighed. "I sedated them right after the Colonel left, sir. They both were in pain, but refused any medication before Colonel Hogan came. So I waited until he left."

"Very well. Do everything you can for them. I will go to barracks eight and hope to find Colonel Hogan there." He started to turn away.

"Why do you need to see mon Colonel, sir?"

Klink turned back toward LeBeau. "That is none of your concern, cockroach," he snapped. He turned away and strode out of the infirmary. The minute the door closed, LeBeau was on his feet and heading toward the back room.

"Where are you going?" asked Wilson.

"Back to the barracks. Somebody needs to warn Newkirk the Kommandant is looking for the Colonel."

"Good luck."

"Merci." LeBeau disappeared into the back room.

* * *

Kinch adjusted his body in the chair he used while turning the page of his paperback book. He sat on the chair from Hogan's desk. Every so often, he allowed himself a glance at Hogan who had finally fallen asleep much to his relief. On occasion, the Colonel whimpered in his sleep causing him to be concerned. But the officer never awoke. Closing the paperback, Kinch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so weary right now that he wished he could sleep for a week. But that wasn't likely until Hogan was back to being himself. He opened his eyes when someone knocked on the door. He sat the book on the desk, and hurried to open the door. He didn't want whoever knocked to wake up the Colonel. He was surprised to find Olsen and Newkirk standing there, each with a worried expression.

With a glance back at Hogan, Kinch slipped out into the common room and quietly closed the door. He followed the two men a few steps away from the smaller room. Carter came over after Kinch motioned for him to join them.

"The Colonel finally fell asleep and I don't want him disturbed for any reason." He checked the time. "You three weren't due back for an hour." Kinch directed his question to Newkirk, puzzled.

"Me and Olsen had to make a quick escape using the tunnel entrance in the infirmary," Newkirk explained. "Ole Klink showed up unexpected, and Olsen and I decided to scarper. We barely got out in time."

Kinch's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows knitted together. "Where's LeBeau?"

"We had him stay with Wilson to try and stall Klink," Olsen continued.

"Damn!" Kinch muttered under his breath. "I should have seen this coming."

"What?" asked Newkirk.

Before Kinch could answer him, the lower bunk in the corner rattled upward again and an out-of-breath LeBeau climbed up the ladder. He stepped over the bed frame and struck the hidden mechanism. As the ladder rose and the bunk dropped over the tunnel opening, he joined Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and Olsen. He took a few minutes to catch his breath.

"We have a problem, mes amis. Klink is looking for Colonel Hogan. When I asked why he refused to say. Wilson and I told him the Colonel went to barracks eight to see Sergeant Wilkerson."

Kinch folded his arms across his chest. "Wilkerson will be able to cover for Colonel Hogan. Our problem is keeping Klink away from the Colonel. And I think I know why Klink is suddenly looking for the Colonel."

"What's the reason?" asked LeBeau.

Kinch shook his head. "I suspect Burkhalter's behind this. My guess is he wants Klink to find out what condition the Colonel's in in case…" he didn't finish.

Carter looked at the radioman. "In case what?"

"Nothing," Kinch replied. "I have an idea. LeBeau, I want you and Carter to go to the other barracks. Speak with the barracks chiefs. Tell 'em to tell Klink the Colonel was there but left before he came, and send him to another barracks. This way Klink will be told the same story at each barracks. Olsen, after you change out of the Colonel's jacket and cap, go to barracks eight and tell Wilkerson I need to speak with him asap."

"You got it." Olsen began shedding the bomber jacket as he walked to the smaller room.

"What do you want me to do, mate?"

"Newkirk, I need you to stay with the Colonel and not let anybody in his room but us. Since you're suppose to be with him, you have to stay out of sight for now."

"I have no problem doing that, mate. But what if the Colonel wakes up and starts askin' 'bout his godson again? What do I tell 'im?"

Kinch thought for a few seconds. "Tell him Terry went to the infirmary because he wanted to visit Toller and Dray. But don't mention Terry unless Colonel Hogan does first."

"Understood."

Olsen closed the door behind him after changing out of Hogan's jacket and cap. "The Colonel's still asleep," he said.

"Looks like everything's going to hell as I thought it might," Simpson smirked causing the others to turn and look at him. "If you ask me…"

"Nobody's askin' you," Newkirk replied.

The Private ground his lower jaw so hard one expected it to break. "Fine. I'll sit back and wait for everything to fall apart. But when Klink gets here…" Simpson never got to finish his sentence. A pair of hands grabbed him roughly, turning him around, where the young man found himself face-to-face with Garlotti. Baker and Addison stood on either side of him.

"You aren't gonna say a thing. Got it?" said Garlotti.

"You can't threaten me," Simpson muttered with more courage than he felt.

"It's not a threat," Garlotti added. "You open your mouth to Klink, and you'll be eating your meals through a straw."

Addison cracked his knuckles loud enough to get the Private's attention. "Kind of hard to eat normally with a broken jaw."

Baker glared at the Private but remained silent. His eyes spoke volumes.

"Calm down everybody. We need to keep our heads. We have to pull together to protect the Colonel," Kinch reminded them. Garlotti thrust Simpson away from him with disdain. The grumbling Private walked away and sat on his bunk, sulking.

The radioman turned his attention to Carter, LeBeau and Olsen. "Get going you guys. Then come back here once you've alerted everybody. We need to be ready when Klink gets here."

* * *

Newkirk sat in the chair Kinch had vacated earlier. His arms rested on his thighs, and hands clasped between his knees. His sad green eyes were focused on the face of his sleeping commanding officer.

"Gov'nor, you gotta snap out of this and come back to us," he said. "We need you, sir. Who's gonna keep Carter from makin' stupid mistakes? Who's gonna keep LeBeau's temper in check? Who's gonna keep Kinch from going crackers under the strain of takin' over for you?" He let out a deep breath. "And who's gonna listen to me complaints and keep me outta trouble? Who, sir?" Newkirk's eyes narrowed when Hogan's eyes opened and looked at him with a blank expression.

"Newkirk."

Getting up from the chair, the Englander came close, crouched down, and placed a hand on Hogan's shoulder. "Sir? How you feelin'? Any better?"

Hogan's eyes scanned the room before they fell again on Newkirk. "Newkirk."

"I'm right here, Gov'nor. Do you need anything, sir? Tell me what I can get you?"

"Terry. Tell me if Kinch has found Terry. I need my godson."

Newkirk recalled what Kinch had told him to say. He licked his suddenly dry lips before he spoke. "Uh, Kinch found your godson, Colonel. He's visiting the infirmary right now. He wanted to spend time with Toller and Dray. Should be back before long I reckon."

"As long as he's safe," Hogan said as his eyes closed. "Newkirk…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't let the others come back. Make them leave me alone." Hogan's breathing evened out and Newkirk knew Hogan had gone back to sleep.

Letting out a weary sigh, Newkirk straightened out the blanket tucked around his commanding officer. "That's it, Gov'nor. You go back to sleep and rest. Ole Newkirk will stay with you for now. Nobody will hurt you. You have me word."

* * *

Wilkerson broke a record getting to barracks two. When he entered, he found Kinch waiting for him at the table with Olsen, who had returned several minutes prior.

"Olsen told me what happened in the infirmary," Wilkerson said. "What went wrong?"

Kinch sighed. "I think Burkhalter's behind Klink's actions. Based on an earlier phone call we overheard days ago, I'm guessing he wants to know if the Colonel is acting strange. And you know what will happen to Colonel Hogan if Klink and Burkhalter find out."

"I do know. You don't have to explain."

"Right now we've got Klink running from barracks to barracks looking for the Colonel and just missing him. Newkirk is with him now in his quarters."

"How is he? Any change?"

"Only that he finally fell asleep on his own. I 'm just hoping he stays asleep when the Kommandant comes."

"Sounds like you're expecting him to come here."

"He will. Trust me." Kinch rubbed his chin. "What we need is a plan to throw Klink off the scent, and satisfy Burkhalter at the same time. It's the only way to protect the Colonel."

"Any ideas, Kinch?" asked Olsen.

"Just one. We need to have Wilson sedate the Colonel again. This way Klink won't be able to speak with him." The radioman looked at Olsen who was getting to his feet.

"I'm on my way," he said before he raced out of the barracks nearly colliding with Carter and LeBeau who were coming in the barracks

"What's going on?" asked a worried LeBeau. "Did something happen?"

Kinch explained his idea to LeBeau and Carter."

"I sure hope Wilson gets here soon," Carter said. "We saw Klink a few times while we were going from barracks to barracks."

"Did he see you?"

"Not sure," LeBeau added. "When I saw him, he looked like he was about to have an attack, his face was so red."

* * *

Klink's feet were aching from the walking he had done from barracks to barracks after he had left the infirmary. So far, he had visited ten different barracks and got the same response. Klink, despite his ineptness, had seen a possible pattern forming. He could see just missing Hogan in the infirmary. He could have missed him at one barracks. But not ten in a row. Hogan was in shaky condition. He could not be expected to move that fast. In addition, he had caught a brief glimpse of Carter and LeBeau leaving two different barracks within seconds of each other. At the time he didn't give it another thought. But when he stopped at the barracks LeBeau had walked out of, he got the same answer. That was when Klink began to suspect he was being sent on what the Americans called a 'wild goose chase.' To test his suspicions, Klink went inside the barracks Carter had left. When he received the same answer as he had at nine other huts, Klink had his answer. He shook his fist angrily.

"Hrmph!" he muttered to the open air. "Try and fool Colonel Klink, will you? I'll show you!" He abruptly turned and stormed in the direction of barracks two. On his way there, he caught sight of his rotund Sergeant-of-the Guard and motioned for him to come with him. Then, Klink waved four of the 'not so tame' guards to come with him.

"Herr Kommandant, where are we going?" puffed the large man. He had a suspicion what their destination was, and hoped he was wrong. But he didn't think he was.

"You'll find out," Klink snapped quickening his pace. Schultz, huffing and puffing, hurried to keep up with the others.

* * *

Kinch and Wilkerson stood on either side of Hogan's bunk. Wilson, his medical bag on the officer's desk, was rummaging through it looking for what he needed. Hogan, awake again, lay on the bunk staring blankly at the worried faces. Wilson found the sedative bottle and filled the syringe. He turned to face Hogan.

"Roll up his sleeve and stand by," the medic ordered coming closer. "I don't know what his reaction might be."

"What are you doing?" Hogan panicked as Wilkerson reached for the cuff of his sleeve and unbuttoned it. He pulled away at seeing the syringe. "No! Leave me alone! No more needles!"

Kinch crouched beside the bed. "Colonel, relax, please. It's for your own good. Trust me."

Hogan's eyes suddenly widened when he looked at the closed door. "They came back! They're here! That, that woman and Claude. They've come back to taunt me. And you're helping them get me!"

Kinch and Wilkerson found themselves each gripping an arm and wrestling with the Colonel. As they did, Hogan let loose the longest string of expletives they had ever heard him utter.

"Traitors! Every one of you! You're trying to keep me away from Terry."

Between the Colonel's cursing, and their struggle with him, nobody heard the commotion right outside the closed door. The door flew open, and Kommandant Klink stomped into the room with four armed guards, two on each side, pointing their weapons at the men. Schultz blocked the doorway with a sorrowful expression.

"Ah ha! I thought so," Klink smirked. "So, I've caught all of you in the act." He took in the sight of Hogan struggling against being held by Kinch and Wilkerson. A look of pity crossed his face momentarily. The American officer was now focused exclusively on the Kommandant's face, eyes blazing.

"_You!"_ Hogan shouted. _"You stopped the Major from bringing Terry back to camp! You chased him away! I hate you! Hate you!"_ That said, the American lunged toward his German counterpart, but being held couldn't reach him. Klink, shocked, still took a step backwards. The sound of safeties being released was heard, and the guards aimed their weapons solely at Hogan. With Hogan distracted, Wilson jabbed Hogan in the arm and pushed the plunger. The Colonel turned his hostile look on the medic. "You're working with Klink to keep Terry away! That's why he isn't here now. It's…it's…" Hogan started slurring his words. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell backward on the bed unconscious.

Wilson lifted both eyelids. "He's fully under the effects of the sedative. He'll be out for at least twelve hours if not longer."

Klink took a wary step toward the bunk. He was still rattled from witnessing Hogan's reaction to him. "Colonel Hogan doesn't appear to be getting better to me, Sergeant Wilson. What do you and Sergeant Wilkerson have to say for yourselves about this deception of yours?"

Wilkerson hoped to do damage control. "But he is getting better, sir. He just overdid things. He felt he owed the men in camp an explanation for his recent behavior. And I told you not to visit for a few days."

"And don't forget, sir, the Colonel blamed you for Major Hochstetter not bringing back Lieutenant Carpenter," Wilson added. "That was why he reacted to you as he did."

"And you expect me to believe those lies?" Klink smirked. "You two!" Nobody moved as the guards Klink pointed at put the safeties back on their weapons. They slung the straps over their shoulders. The other two kept their weapons aimed.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," one of them, a Corporal, said with a salute.

Klink returned it. "I want you and Private Heilman to remove Colonel Hogan and lock him in solitary until a decision is made as to his disposition. He is to have no visitors. And I want a guard posted outside his cell. Understood? You other guards, if anybody tries to interfere, use your weapons. I have to phone General Burkhalter and make a report." Klink abruptly turned and stormed out of the small room, shoving past Schultz who barely had time to stand aside. All he could do was watch sadly as two guards roughly grabbed the unconscious Hogan.

* * *

(1) D'accord means All right.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Klink stormed into his inner office, and slammed the door shut with a bang. He shrugged off his outer coat, hung it on the coat tree along with his cap. He followed by walking to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of Schnapps. He downed it in one gulp and poured another. He downed it in one gulp as well before pouring a third. He carried the glass to his desk and sat in his chair.

He was still angry by the deception of the men. How dare they! Klink took a sip of the liquor and his face softened. He couldn't forget the look in Hogan's eyes. The look of intense hatred directed at him by the American. As he took another sip, he recalled Hogan looked as if he had no idea what was happening to him mentally. He finished his drink and reached for the receiver of his phone. Then his eyes fell on the slip of paper in front of him on the desk. Klink replaced and the receiver, picked up the paper, and read the message in Hilda's handwriting:

'_General Burkhalter called while you were out of the office. He has been summoned to Berchtesgaden by the Furher. He will be unavailable. As for the information he ordered you to get, he will get in touch with you when he returns. He orders you to not give the information to anybody else.'_

Klink crushed the paper and threw it in his wastebasket. But in reality, he was glad because despite everything, he hoped Hogan could recover before Burkhalter returned. This way Hogan will be fine. The alternative made Klink shudder. The Furher's edict on anybody suffering from mental problems, among other things, was well known. Hitler was known to be in favor of killing those whom he judged to be what he considered 'unworthy of life.'The Nazis considered this form of euthanasia, or 'mercy killing,' of people 'not worth living' a murderous program in Nazi Germany. This made Klink cringe. He understood once he informed Burkhalter of Hogan's current condition, the American's fate will be sealed. The General, being a staff officer, will make one phone call and get someone to come and collect the American officer. And once it happened, Colonel Robert Hogan was a dead man.

Klink was aware by 1940, there were six killing centers designated as euthanasia institutions. And while these places were kept secret from the world and the German people, the Nazis knew the truth.(1) Klink chewed his thumbnail at the thought of Hogan being sent to one of these places for 'treatment.' Knowing what will happen to Hogan there, Klink couldn't help but experience two emotions; compassion and regret. Regret things had come to this point; and compassion because despite being an enemy, Hogan was the closest thing to a friend he had. Klink debated lying to Burkhalter and hoping Hogan came out of it before Burkhalter or Hochstetter showed up in camp. But Klink understood should he be caught in a lie, he will be on his way to the Eastern front. Or the firing squad. No, he will pray whatever Hogan was going through will resolve itself within the next forty-eight hours.

* * *

Kinch, Wilson, Wilkerson, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter gathered in Hogan's office after the guards had left. Wilson shut the door so they could be alone.

"We've got a huge problem," Kinch said pointing out the obvious. "The Colonel losing it in front of Klink didn't help. In fact, it made things worse. Much worse."

"Question is, what are we going to do, mon ami?"

Kinch crossed his arms across his chest while leaning against Hogan's desk. He rubbed his chin with one hand. "I have an idea which might work. Unfortunately, we can't do a thing until Burkhalter makes a decision." Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk began arguing at the same time.

"Hold it, guys!" Wilkerson demanded but was ignored.

Kinch whistled loudly silencing them. When he again had their attention, the radioman continued. "When I said we need to wait for Burkhalter, I meant it. We overheard Burkhalter's phone call when Hilda took the message, so we have at least twenty-four hours, forty-eight if we're lucky. We can't be sure which. But however long it is, we need to know what Burkhalter will do about Colonel Hogan before we make our move."

"But what if Klink decides on his own to handle things?" asked Carter, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn leather jacket.

"He won't," Kinch assured him. "Not unless he wants a transfer to the Russian front. No, I'm positive Burkhalter will make the decision as to what happens to the Colonel." His eyes shifted to the Englander. "Newkirk, I want you to watch the switchboard for any incoming and outgoing calls to and from Klink's office. I don't want to take a chance Burkhalter might call with orders for the Iron Eagle."

"Consider it done," said Newkirk.

Kinch nodded. "Carter, I want you, Olsen, and LeBeau to do damage control. I'm sure what happened has spread throughout the camp. We need to downplay things as much as we can."

"What do you want us to tell 'em if somebody asks?" asked Carter.

Kinch mulled it over for a few minutes and looked at Wilkerson. "Any suggestions, Matt? You're the expert here."

Wilkerson sighed. "If anybody asks you what happened with the Colonel, just tell them he is still dealing with Carpenter's death, he lost his temper with Klink, and said something he shouldn't have."

"Sure thing," Carter agreed.

Wilson leaned against the Colonel's footlocker. "Kinch, do you think you can find a way to get me inside the Colonel's cell? I need to keep an eye on him while he's under sedation."

"I'll check first if he's in a cell with tunnel access. If not, I'll try and convince Klink to allow you access." His eyes shifted to Wilkerson. "What is it, Matt?"

Wilkerson shook his head. "Only thing I can think of what are we going to do if Burkhalter rules against Colonel Hogan. Have you given that any thought because it could happen?"

Kinch exhaled and sat on the edge of the desk with a frown. "I have. We have to have a back-up plan just in case things go to hell."

Carter looked at the radioman curiously. "You want to ask a question, Andrew?"

"That's the second time you said that. Just in case what? I think we need to know what could happen to Colonel Hogan if Burkhalter rules against him as you said."

Kinch chewed his lower lip and looked at Wilkerson; his eyes indicating he didn't want to explain this to Carter. Wilkerson sighed.

"Carter, Hitler has been in favor of getting rid of those he deems undesirable. The mentally ill for an example. In other words, the Krauts will consider the Colonel's words and behavior a sign he is mentally ill. The Nazis consider what they do a form of 'mercy killing'. But in reality, they are cleansing the Aryan race of those they consider undesirables."(2) Carter's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"You mean he orders 'em killed?" the young Sergeant asked.

"Yes."

"Y'see, Andrew…" Kinch continued. "The Nazis make sure old Scramble Brains orders are carried out to the letter."

"Mon Dieu," LeBeau said, not liking where this was going.

"Yes," Wilkerson said. "But they could take Colonel Hogan out of camp, take him to a remote place, and execute him. Right now the Colonel's in no mental state to know what's going on either way."

"We must do something!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Blimey! We can't let them put the Gov'nor to death."

"And we won't," Kinch replied. "We are going to do something. Soon as we know Burkhalter's decision. I'd just rather not wait until the last minute to think of something."

Carter's lower lip trembled and his eyes bright with unshed tears as he looked at the radioman somberly. "They will kill Colonel Hogan because he's sick? How can they do that? The Colonel will get better. He will, Kinch."

Kinch allowed a grim smile to appear. "Yes, he will. But the Nazis might not give him the time he needs. So we need to be ready to move and fast. Now do you understand?"

Carter sighed. "Yeah. Boy, every time you think you know what the Nazis are capable of, they come up with some new form of cruelty."

"Get going you guys," Kinch added.

Newkirk shook his head sadly. "Blimey. I hate thinkin' the Gov'nor's life depends on a Kraut."

LeBeau exhaled. "Oui. I agree with you, Pierre. But we cannot, as mon Colonel might say, 'get ahead of ourselves.' And Kinch is right. We must wait and see what Burkhalter does first."

"What are you going to do, Kinch?" asked Wilkerson.

"First I'm gonna check if the Colonel's cell has a tunnel entrance. If not, I'll speak to Klink. I have to talk with General Butler and let him know we might need a plane on very short notice, and finally the underground. I want everything on standby. Matt, as Acting Senior POW, I want you to come with me should I need to speak with Klink."

Wilkerson nodded. "You know where to find me."

Kinch allowed a small smile to appear. "Let's get a move on, guys. We've got work to do."

* * *

The next two days had Kinch feeling he was in a fog. So much had taken place in the past forty-eight hours. First, he discovered Hogan's cell had no tunnel access. So, he and Wilkerson had gone to the Kommandant who gave them a somewhat chilly reception. It was obvious Klink was still upset at the deception. Kinch nearly pleaded for Wilson to be allowed to check on Hogan once a day. Klink, while doing his best to stand firm, denied the request. Wilkerson then added Burkhalter will be angry if something happened to the Colonel. Klink's body stiffened at the mention of the General's name, and at once reversed himself. He will allow Wilson to check on Hogan once daily in the presence of a guard. Satisfied, both men exchanged salutes with Klink and left the office.

Right away, Wilson was allowed to examine the still sleeping Hogan with Corporal Langenscheidt standing guard. When he finished, the medic asked for the Corporal to open the cell door.

"How is Colonel Hogan, Sergeant Wilson?" the German asked, concern on his face.

"He's fine right now. I'll be back to check on him again tomorrow. Make sure somebody comes and gets me if something goes wrong."

"Jawohl, Sergeant."

Wilson informed the men in barracks two afterwards.

Next, Kinch got on the radio and contacted the underground. He spoke to a contact they had worked with before named Blue Sky explaining they needed four men Klink had not seen. He asked for these men to be on standby as they might be needed on short notice. When pressed, Kinch said Papa Bear might have to be gotten out of Germany for his own safety.

The most difficult call was to General Butler. Kinch felt he needed to be completely honest with Butler now as he explained Hogan's problem. Butler had listened patiently until Kinch finished.

"I'm sorry to hear this news," Butler said. "Are you sure there's no chance he could recover given time?"

"Anything's possible, General. We are monitoring things. But I don't want to wait until the last minute requesting a plane to get the Colonel out of Germany. I'm sure you can understand that, sir."

"I can. How soon will you know for sure?"

"Within the next two days barring unforeseen circumstances."

"I will have a plane ready. Should you need it, contact me at once. Use Code Red if anybody gives you a problem when you call. I will make sure to send it with one or two medics on board along with whatever they require so we can get Hogan to London safely."

"Thank you, sir. Papa Bear out."

Several hours later, Carter, Olsen and LeBeau reported to Kinch and Wilkerson they had calmed the other prisoners. Many of the men had questions, and a few questioned Hogan's sanity given his actions since the death of Lieutenant Carpenter.

Finally, Newkirk monitored the switchboard. Every four hours Baker relieved him. It was during one of these times as Baker sat in the chair at the switchboard, he looked up at the Englander.

"Newkirk, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, mate. You can ask me anything that's on your mind."

"What's gonna happen to Colonel Hogan? I guess what I'm trying to ask is, if something was seriously wrong with him, you and the others wouldn't keep it from us, would you?"

Newkirk took in and let out a deep breath. "What's gonna happen to the Gov'nor? I can't say right now 'cause I have no idea. You know as much as we do. The Gov'nor's having a rough time. But we have to believe he'll snap outta it and come back to us with time."

"So do I," Baker admitted. "This place will not be the same without Colonel Hogan. You better rest. You have to relieve me in four hours."

"Right. Catch you later, mate." Newkirk turned and headed for the ladder leading up to the barracks. He rested both hands on one of the upper rungs, and one foot on a bottom rung. He let out a deep breath. "You got that right, Baker," he muttered to nobody. "This place will not be the same without the Gov'nor." He proceeded to climb up the ladder.

* * *

Klink, bent over the open middle drawer of his file cabinet, filed several reports. He heard the door of his office open and close. "Fraulein Hilda, I told you I cannot be disturbed for any reason," he said with his back to the door. "Tell whoever is waiting I'm busy and to go away. I just don't have the time."

"Then you'd better make the time, Klink."

Klink shut the drawer, caught his finger in it, and yelped. He sucked on his injured finger as he turned around and saw the smirking face of General Burkhalter. "Are you regressing back to your early childhood, Klink? Or do you have a new habit?" Burkhalter looked genuinely amused at the sight in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Herr General," Klink explained shaking his hand as he walked around his desk and sitting in his chair. "It's just that I was expecting you to call instead of showing up."

"I never said I will call when Fraulein Hilda took my call. If memory calls, I believe I said I will be in touch." He sat his large bulk in the chair against the wall under the framed photo of Hitler which housed the hidden microphone for barracks two. "Now, Klink, what have you to report on Hogan? And don't lie or leave a thing out if you know what's good for you." Klink shuddered.

Klink thought how best to help Hogan. He thought of lying to the General. But deciding against it, he slowly began to explain what had happened including his last run-in with the American.

"So Hogan is still in the cooler?"

"Yes, Herr General. He is allowed no visitors, and I have a guard posted. I thought it best for the protection of my guards. Our camp medic, Sergeant Wilson, sedated Hogan before I had him put in solitary. I allow Sergeant Wilson to check Hogan once a day to make sure he is fine." Klink waited for the General's reaction. When Burkhalter struggled to his feet, so did Klink.

"Come with me, Klink."

"Yes, sir," Klink said as Burkhalter opened the door. He grabbed his coat and cap and put on his coat. "Where are we going, Herr General?"

"To the cooler, where else? I want to see Hogan for myself. Afterward, I will make my decision." The two men walked out of the office and left the building.

* * *

Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Wilkerson stood around Hogan's desk with grim expressions. They looked at each other.

"You were right, Kinch," Wilkerson said.

"Oui. Burkhalter will have Colonel Hogan taken away to protect himself and the Luftwaffe. But mainly himself."

"What are we gonna do now?" asked Carter, his eyes moist. He choked back a sob.

"We're gonna do what we were making arrangements for yesterday," Kinch explained glancing at each man. "We're gonna send Colonel Hogan to London and have the Krauts think he's dead."

* * *

(1) There were six euthanasia centers disguised as psychiatric hospitals in November 1940. This information was kept top secret and didn't come to light until after the war. Between 1940 - September 1941, about 70,273 people were killed in all six euthanasia centers. Hadamar alone claimed 10,072 lives. This operation was temporarily halted in August of 1941, but the program was reinstated in 1942. Hadamar, from 1942 until the end of the war took the lives of an additional 4400 victims.

(2) Patients were given quick 'examinations' by doctors who participated in the euthanasia program. Those killed were people considered incurable by these doctors. Hitler was in favor of killing those whom he judged to be "unworthy of life." The mentally ill were among that group.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Hogan sat on the hard straw bunk, his anger growing. Terry sat in the nearby chair with arms on his thighs, and clasped hands between his knees. The young Lieutenant shook his head and looked at his godfather.

"What are we doing in this cell, Rob?" Terry asked.

"I have no idea," Hogan replied coolly. "I was unconscious at the time. I woke up hours later and found myself in here. I bet Wilson was responsible." His eyebrows knitted together. "How did you end up in here?"

Terry shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe I'm being punished although I have no idea why or by who."

Hogan glanced at the guard again before turning back to Carpenter. "I'm not sure as to the why. But I got a good idea who," Hogan growled. "Klink is the guilty party responsible for me being in here. I know he is, Terry. He's doing everything he can to…" He didn't finish as the sound of footsteps were heard in the distance. As the footsteps got closer, Hogan leaned back against the wall. He soon saw Klink, Burkhalter, and two more armed guards, standing and staring at him through the bars. "Well, well, well…" Hogan said sarcastically. "…if it isn't the Laurel and Hardy of the Luftwaffe coming to pay a visit."

"Hogaaaaannnn," Klink muttered, a look of desperation on his face. "General Burkhalter is here to see you."

"Why?" Hogan stretched his legs out and folded his arms across his chest, a belligerent expression aimed at the Kommandant. "What more do you want from me? You kept Major Hochstetter from bringing Lieutenant Carpenter back to camp, but I've got a surprise for you, Kommandant. Lieutenant Carpenter came back despite your attempts to keep him away."

Burkhalter smirked. "Tell me, Hogan. Where is this Lieutenant Carpenter? In your barracks perhaps?"

"Are you blind? He's sitting right there." Hogan pointed to the vacant chair with a look of annoyance.

Burkhalter's eyes narrowed. "Hogan, Lieutenant Carpenter is dead. Shot while trying to escape from the Gestapo. I suggest you accept that fact."

Hogan, his face turning a deep shade of crimson, looked at Terry who rolled his eyes skyward. Hogan got to his feet and approached the front of his cell. He gripped two of the bars and with murder in his eyes, glared at the General who did not blink an eye. Klink backed away until he bumped into the wall.

"How _dare_ you say that! Terry is not dead despite Klink trying to make sure he was. And Major Hochstetter was going to bring him back! But the _Kommandant _here refused to allow it." He spoke Klink's title with distaste.

"And how did he do that may I ask?"

"He allowed him to leave Stalag 13 before I could get him to agree to bring him back. But the Lieutenant got himself back here despite Klink." Hogan chuckled. "Y'hear me, Kommandant? The Lieutenant came back here despite your feeble attempts to keep him away!"

Burkhalter glanced over his shoulder, looked at Klink, and back at Hogan. "I see. Tell me, have you seen Lieutenant Carpenter since he's been back?"

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Of course I have. Sheesh! I talk with him every day. We share a barracks." He then tilted his head. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? You think I'm nuts. Well I'm not."

Burkhalter smirked. "I didn't say that, Colonel. I'm just trying to find out the truth."

"You want the truth? I'll give you the truth. Klink has done everything to keep the Lieutenant from returning. And after allowing him to be removed. He keeps telling me the Lieutenant's dead when I know damn well he isn't." Hogan glanced back at the empty chair. "Isn't that right, Terry?"

Carpenter smiled at Hogan. "You tell 'em, Rob."

Hogan turned back to Burkhalter. "I bet you're the reason I'm locked in here. I bet you ordered Klink to lock me in here. Why?"

"I did not give Klink any orders, Hogan. But for once I agree with him. You appear to have lost your mind. We can't let you run around claiming to see and talk with dead people. You will stay in here until I decide what to do with you." Burkhalter started to walk away with his guards and Klink behind him, when Hogan snarled loudly reaching an arm through the bars. He tried to grab the General's coat, and failed as the man was out of his reach. Suddenly, a look of terror crossed Hogan's face and he began to back away from the cell door.

"Make them go away and leave me alone!" The American officer cringed. "Make them go away!"

"Make who go away, Hogan?" asked Burkhalter as he approached the cell again. He observed Hogan's reaction with concern. To him, the American had definitely lost his mind. This knowledge saddened him despite Hogan being the enemy. As much of a pain the arrogant, smug, and cocky American was, Burkhalter respected Hogan. He hated witnessing the man reduced to this state. He silently cursed Major Braun of the Gestapo for succeeding at what nobody else had been able to do. To break the spirit and damage the mind of one Robert Hogan. The response he got from Hogan who had curled himself into a fetal position on the floor was a whimper. The American suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed his head.

"I will ask you again. Make who go away?" Burkhalter repeated his question.

"The voices! Make the voices stop taunting me! Make them stop!" Hogan felt his head was going to explode from the pain.

Klink sighed. He didn't know if Hogan was exaggerating his grief. Regardless, he told himself it had to stop and now. "Hogan, don't you think you're overdoing this performance?" he asked with a touch of sarcasm. He trembled under Burkhalter's expression.

"Klink, have one of the guards fetch Sergeant Wilson at once, and have him examine Hogan."

"Right away, Herr General." Klink looked at one of the guards, a Sergeant named Weiner. "You. Find Sergeant Wilson. Have him come to the cooler right away."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," the guard said with a quick salute before leaving.

* * *

Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Wilkerson sat at the table quietly drinking coffee. Newkirk was below monitoring the switchboard. Baker had come upstairs and was stretched out on his bunk sleeping.

"What d'ya think Burkhalter's doin' right now?" asked Carter.

Kinch shrugged. "Probably still with Klink in the cooler seeing the Colonel."

"I wish we knew what was going on right now," commented LeBeau with a frown. "Too bad we can't at least listen in."

The barracks door opened and Schultz walked in and closed the door. He approached the men at the table right away. The Frenchman glanced at him and turned away.

"Go away, Schultzie," he said. "We're not in the mood for any visits right now."

Kinch looked at the expression on the large man's face. "What's wrong, Schultz?" he asked.

"I ran into Sergeant Weiner as he was leaving the cooler. I asked him what was the hurry, and he asked me where could he find Sergeant Wilson. I thought something didn't sound right, so I asked him what was the problem. He told me General Burkhalter wanted Sergeant Wilson to examine Colonel Hogan because something is wrong with him. I told him I had seen Sergeant Wilson heading for his barracks."

The men exchanged troubled looks. This was definitely not good news.

"What is wrong with Colonel Hogan?" Wilkerson inquired worriedly.

"I don't know. But it did not sound good. I thought you should know."

"Thanks, Schultz," said Kinch. He waited until the guard left the barracks. He got to his feet, walked over to the bunk where Baker was asleep, and shook him awake. The man sleepily looked up at Kinch.

"Time to relieve Newkirk already, Kinch?" he asked tiredly.

"No. Something's happening. I need you to tell Newkirk to keep alert. Burkhalter might be making a phone call very soon."

"On it," Baker replied. He got to his feet and hurried to the double bunk, hitting the hidden mechanism. Kinch returned to the table.

LeBeau slammed a fist on the table and turned and stared at the radioman. "How can you sit there so calmly? Something has happened to the Colonel. We need to do something and do it now!"

Kinch understood LeBeau's anger. Hell, he felt it himself. It was taking every ounce of strength he had to stay calm. He couldn't afford to lose control now. Not with Hogan's life on the line. "We will do something," he said. "When Burkhalter makes that call."

Wilkerson also understood how LeBeau felt. "Kinch is right. Once Burkhalter makes his decision known, we spring into action. I know you're worried. So are we. But we won't let anything happen to the Colonel."

"They're both right," Carter added. "Besides, we can't start fighting among ourselves. Not now. Colonel Hogan's gonna need all of us."

A weak smile appeared on the Frenchman's face. "You are right, Andre. I'm just so scared for the Colonel." He looked at Kinch. "I apologize, mon ami. I should not have yelled at you. Can you forgive me?"

Kinch smiled. "Nothing to forgive."

The lookout at the door turned, his face showing deep concern. "Burkhalter and Klink are heading back to Klink's office!" he shouted.

"This is it," said Kinch as he, LeBeau, Carter, and Wilkerson bolted to their feet and hurried into Hogan's office. Carter shut the door as LeBeau plugged in the coffee pot.

* * *

Burkhalter walked into Klink's office with the Kommandant behind him. Klink took off his coat and cap and hung them on the coat tree. He sat behind his desk as the General removed his cap, placing it on the corner of the desk. He sat in the chair against the wall.

Burkhalter sighed wearily. "You didn't tell me things with Hogan were this bad, Klink."

"I'm sorry, Herr General. I was led to believe that Colonel Hogan was recovering from his grief. If I had known…"

"It doesn't matter right now. What I don't understand is why the death of this Lieutenant Carpenter should affect Hogan this way. Do you know if there was a connection between Hogan and the late Lieutenant?"

Klink shook his head. "No, sir. But I can find out if you want me to."

Burkhalter sighed and wiped his brow with the back of a hand. "We have a more immediate problem. Something must be done with Hogan. He cannot stay here. If it were to be found out we are harboring a prisoner with mental problems, we would be in serious trouble."

Klink's body shivered knowing to what Burkhalter was referring. "What do you mean, Herr General? What trouble?" he asked.

Burkhalter rolled his eyes towards the heavens. "Klink, the Furher's edict is quite clear on this issue. He is in favor of disposing of those whom he judges to be how one would say, 'unworthy of life.' "

Klink swallowed the building lump in his throat. He hated to lose Hogan this way.

Burkhalter got to his feet, and with hands clasped behind him, began to pace in front of Klink's desk. "Colonel Hogan has to be removed from Stalag 13 and sent somewhere else. By somewhere else, I mean where he can get the proper care." His last sentence was spoken with a Cheshire cat smirk on his face which sent shivers through the Kommandant's entire body.

"But…but…what do we tell Major Hochstetter the next time…"

"_Dummkopf! _You tell Hochstetter nothing! This is a Luftwaffe matter!" Burkhalter grabbed the receiver of Klink's phone. "This is General Burkhalter. Connect me with Luftwaffe Headquarters. Yes, I will hold."

* * *

Baker got to his feet after asking the General to wait a minute to allow Newkirk to sit in the chair.

"He's calling Luftwaffe Headquarters," the Sergeant repeated. Newkirk nodded and adjusted the headset and microphone on his head.

Newkirk took a deep breath and took the call off hold. "This is Luftwaffe Headquarters," he said in his best German voice. "Captain Eisenhauer speaking."

"_Captain, this is General Burkhalter."_

"Jawohl, Herr General. How might I assist you?"

"_I am at Stalag 13. There is a prisoner here who needs to be transferred to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute. I also want guards to accompany him and see to it he is delivered to Hadamar."_

Newkirk bristled hearing the news of Hogan's destination, but controlled his temper.

"I understand. You said Stalag 13?"

"_That is correct."_

"May I ask the prisoner's name, Mein Herr?"

"_His name is Robert Hogan. He is an American Air Force Colonel. How soon can you send somebody to pick up the prisoner?" _

"Colonel Robert Hogan. Very well, Herr General. We will have somebody pick him up sometime tomorrow."

"_Excellent. We'll be expecting you. Goodbye."_

Newkirk disconnected the call. "Pompous ass," he muttered. He got to his feet after removing the headset. "Keep an eye on the switchboard in case the bloody bastard calls again. I'm going topside for a few minutes."

Baker nodded as he sat in the chair Newkirk vacated.

* * *

Burkhalter hung up the receiver with a smirk on his face. He turned his beady eyes on Klink who sat looking nervous behind his desk.

"Klink, I want you to prepare a set of transfer orders authorizing Hogan to be transferred to Hadamar. I will sign off on them. I want everything in order when the guards come for him tomorrow."

"Yes, Herr General," Klink stammered opening a desk drawer and reaching for a set of transfer papers. "Sir, might I ask why you want Luftwaffe guards to accompany Colonel Hogan to Hadamar?"

Burkhalter shook his head. "Because crazy or not, this is still Hogan. I want guards to accompany him from here to the train station, and then to Hadamar. It is better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn't you agree?"

Klink frowned at Burkhalter's apparent joy at getting rid of the American. "Yes, sir."

* * *

LeBeau unplugged the coffee pot and shook his head. The others looked at each other, stunned.

"Oh boy," Carter murmured sadly.

LeBeau let loose a long string of French swearwords.

Kinch folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. He secretly had hoped things didn't come to this. But now that they had, he understood he will be making the toughest and most important decisions of his life.

Wilkerson, with hands flat on the desk, looked at Kinch. "I guess this is it, right?"

Kinch nodded. "This is it, Matt. We've got to send Colonel Hogan to London before tomorrow evening."


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: I am aware there is no evidence in which a mentally ill POW in a prison camp was taken to a euthanasia center. According to my research, patients were taken from mental homes, nursing homes and sanatoriums. However, these centers were also used to kill prisoners transferred from concentration camps in Germany and Austria. But for purposes of this story, I included a POW camp.  
**

**Chapter 40**

Later that night at final roll call, the men of barracks two lined up and Schultz began his count of each man. After counting Newkirk, Schultz stared at the vacant space normally occupied by Colonel Hogan. With a deep and sorrowful breath, the guard turned around and exchanged salutes with both Klink and Burkhalter who were present.

"All prisoners present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant, Herr General," said Schultz.

"Excellent, Schultz." Klink paused before he looked at the two rows of men. "Prisoners, I want to give you on the latest update on Colonel Hogan. After conferring with General Burkhalter, it has been decided that Colonel Hogan will be transferred to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute for treatment. The transfer will take place sometime tomorrow. Now despite what you may think, we are not without compassion for Colonel Hogan. And under the Geneva Convention, we will make sure Colonel Hogan receives the best care and treatment possible. Master Sergeant Wilkerson will stay the Acting Senior POW until another officer arrives in camp. That's all. Dissss-missssed." After exchanging salutes again with Schultz, Klink and Burkhalter turned and walked away. But not before the men saw the smirk on the General's face.

As the prisoners dispersed, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk gathered around Kinch.

"Bloody bastard," Newkirk muttered with disgust, his eyes on Burkhalter's receding form.

"Filthy Bosche."

"I never heard of this Hadamar Psychiatric Institute," said Carter, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. "Could we maybe have been wrong? I mean, why would they transfer the Colonel to a hospital unless they were trying to help him?"

"Didn't you see that smirk on Burkhalter's face before he and Klink left?" asked LeBeau. "He looked like a fat vautour about to swoop down on his prey."(1)

"I have no idea," said Kinch, ignoring the comment. "But my gut is telling me something's not right. C'mon." He started to walk away.

"Where are we going?" asked LeBeau as the others followed him.

"To talk with Sergeant Wilkerson," Kinch explained. "He might know something about this Hadamar."

* * *

Matt Wilkerson sat in his private quarters sipping a cup of hot tea. It had not only been a long day, but the latest news on Colonel Hogan had left him distressed. With a sigh, Wilkerson took another drink of his tea. A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he ordered. He looked up when the door opened to see Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk enter and close the door. "How can I help you fellas?"

"You look kinda down, Matt," Kinch remarked with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What happened?"

Wilkerson gestured to the men to find places to sit. Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk sat on the lower bunk, while Kinch leaned against the footlocker.

"Have any of you guys spoken to Wilson lately?" the Master Sergeant asked. The men all indicated they hadn't.

"I mean we were told Wilson was summoned to the cooler because something happened to mon Colonel," LeBeau explained.

Wilkerson nodded. "Then you don't know what happened." He let out a deep breath before continuing. "Wilson reported to me after he left the cooler. He told me that in front of both Burkhalter and Klink, the Colonel started hearing voices again, seeing hallucinations, and talking to Lieutenant Carpenter."

"Oh boy," Carter murmured hanging his head. The others all shook their heads sadly.

"But that's not the worst of it," Wilkerson added. "The Colonel became so terrified at hearing the voices he blacked out. Burkhalter ordered Wilson to the cooler to check out the Colonel. Fortunately he is all right. Wilson brought him around with smelling salts, and stayed with the Colonel until he finally feel asleep."

"That doesn't sound good at all," Newkirk remarked. "Then again, it might be connected to what ole Klink said a few minutes ago."

"What did Klink say?" Wilkerson asked looking confused.

Kinch sighed. "Klink and Burkhalter attended roll call. After roll call, Klink told us he and Burkhalter decided to transfer Colonel Hogan to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute sometime tomorrow."

"Yeah," Newkirk agreed. "Claims under Geneva Convention, they want to make sure the Gov'nor gets the best treatment and care possible."

"But something isn't right," Kinch said. "Also, Burkhalter had a smirk on his face that reminds one of a cat toying with a mouse before he kills it."

Wilkerson rubbed his forehead as a headache began. His eyes suddenly narrowed as he looked up at the men. "Wait a minute. Did you just say they're going to transfer the Colonel to Hadamar?"

Kinch straightened. "Yeah, we did. Why? What do you know about this place?"

"Not a thing. But considering Hitler's edict on people with mental disabilities, if they're transferring the Colonel there, it can't be good."

Kinch checked the time. "London's off the air until tomorrow morning. I'll speak with General Butler then. I have to contact the underground. We need to put our plan into action if we're gonna get the Colonel out of Germany by evening tomorrow." He looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, I'll need you to find Wilson and have him come to the barracks. If we're gonna pull this off, we're gonna need 'im."

"Je comprends," LeBeau replied.

Kinch then turned to Wilkerson. "Matt, you need to come as well. We're gonna need your input."

"I'll be there," Wilkerson assured him. "But you guys better get going. Lights out will be soon and you don't want to be caught outside the barracks."

* * *

Thirty minutes after the lights were out in all the barracks, Wilson and LeBeau entered barracks two using the tunnel. They joined Newkirk who sat at the table. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight and that of the searchlight as it passed back and forth. Both filtered through the slits between the shutters. Carter stood lookout at the door. The rest of the men in the hut were asleep, used to the sound of the lower bunk rattling upward. Over time, they had grown accustomed to Hogan and the men coming and going at all hours.

"Where's Kinch?" asked Wilson glancing around and not seeing the radioman.

"He's down in the radio room," Newkirk explained while lighting a cigarette. He took a drag and exhaled the smoke. "He's talkin' to the underground about tomorrow. We're also waitin' for Sergeant Wilkerson." He took another drag.

Carter quickly opened the door and allowed Wilkerson to slip inside the room and closed the door again.

"Hope I'm not too late," he said letting out a deep breath as he ran a hand over his hair. He took a seat. "I was nearly spotted by a searchlight while on my way here."

The lower bunk in the corner rattled upward and the ladder dropped. As the others turned and looked, Kinch soon appeared and stepped over the bed frame. He struck the hidden mechanism, and waited for the bunk to drop over the tunnel opening. He joined the others at the table a few seconds later.

"What did the underground have to say, mon ami?"

"I spoke with Red Rose," Kinch began looking at the others. "They have four men Klink has never seen. Newkirk, I want you and Carter to meet them at the usual rendezvous place at 2300 hours tonight and bring them here. We need to get them fitted with Luftwaffe uniforms with one being a Captain."

"You got it," Newkirk replied answering for both him and Carter.

"We're also gonna need a truck from the motor pool large enough to carry twelve men. I'll take care of that," Kinch explained.

"Why so big a truck?" asked Wilson.

"Because we're going with them to the hidden airstrip," Kinch replied.

"What about London?" asked Carter looking back. "We're gonna need a plane if we're gonna get the Colonel out of Germany."

Kinch looked at the young Sergeant. "General Butler has a plane on standby for us. I just need to contact him and let him know we need it tomorrow evening after lights out."

"What about moi? What do I do?"

"LeBeau, once the underground members are here, I want you and Addison to fit them with uniforms. Newkirk, I need you to watch the switchboard. We can't afford any slipups." The Englander nodded his head.

"What do you need me for, Kinch?" Wilson asked clasping his hands on top of the table.

"Joe, it's a three hour trip from Germany to London. Once we get Colonel Hogan on that plane, he'll need to be sedated. So we're gonna need you with us."

"You can count on me," the medic assured him.

"Any questions?" Kinch asked looking around at the group. "Matt?"

The Master Sergeant scratched his chin. "Just one thing. You said Klink will have to believe that Colonel Hogan is dead."

"That's right," Kinch said. "Klink, Burkhalter, and unfortunately Schultz as well. Only you and Wilson, along with the men in this barracks will know the truth. Nobody else."

Everybody nodded their understanding. But Wilkerson still had a few questions.

"But how are you going to convince Klink, Burkhalter, and Schultz the Colonel is dead? I mean, I don't doubt you guys can do it, I'm just curious as to how you're going to pull it off."

With a faint smile, Kinch explained his idea to the others who listened intently. When he finished, he looked at the others. "Well?" he asked.

"I think it will work," Wilkerson admitted with a grin. The others nodded their agreement.

* * *

Carter, dressed in black with grease smeared over his face, climbed out of the tree stump. He quickly closed the lid, and crouched behind several bushes as the searchlight passed over the area. Once the light had gone by, Carter lifted the lid again allowing Newkirk to climb out and join him. The Englander was dressed the same as Carter. Both men ducked when the searchlight passed over the area in the other direction. After the light passed, the duo made their way through the woods enroute to the rendezvous location.

Newkirk glanced back at the younger man sensing his sadness. "You all right, mate?" he asked.

"Yeah. No. Not really. Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of confidence in Kinch, and I know he can do the job of heading the operation. It's just that things will be so different without the Colonel."

"I agree with you there. Things will be different. But Kinch is a lot like the Gov'nor in many ways, and different in others. He'll do a bloody good job. He always has when fillin' in for the Colonel at times."

"But what if London decides to send another officer to replace Colonel Hogan? What then?"

Newkirk let out a deep breath. He had been thinking the same thing. He shrugged. "If that happens, we give the new bloke a chance. It's all we can do." They continued on their journey in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

Wilson returned to his own barracks via the tunnel and lay on his bunk. Extremely tired, he lay on his back staring at the underside of the upper bunk. It had been a long week for everybody and he suspected it would all come to a head tomorrow. He didn't doubt Kinch's plan would work; afterall, getting people out of Germany was what the men did best. Only difference this time, they had the added task of making the Germans believe the Colonel had died. That would serve a two-fold purpose. One, it would keep the Germans from searching for Hogan. And two, it would prevent the Krauts from possibly tearing apart Stalag 13 and uncovering their operation. Wilson would miss the Colonel. Hell, everybody would. But at least Hogan would be safe in London. And he'd get the help they couldn't give him here. He turned onto his side, closed his eyes, and allowed sleep to overtake him.

* * *

LeBeau, down in the sewing room in the tunnels, gathered what would be needed to repair and/or sew uniforms. He wanted everything ready when the underground operatives arrived. Also, he needed a change of scenery as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. A small smile appeared when he recalled all the good times they had with their commanding officer, as well as the tough times. His smile slowly turned into a frown when memories of the last few days came back to him. Seeing Colonel Hogan deteriorating saddened him. Things would never be the same. But despite their loyalty to Hogan, they would give the new officer a chance knowing he could never replace Hogan. Once he had everything he and Addison would need, the Frenchman sat down at the table. He rested his face against one hand and thought about things. He would miss the Colonel, but at least he would be alive. Also, the Colonel would be getting the help he needed. With a sigh, LeBeau lay his arms on top of the table, and rested his chin on top of his folded arms.

* * *

Kinch sat at the table in the common room waiting for Carter and Newkirk to return. Meanwhile, he studied the keys to the truck he had 'borrowed' from the motor pool in his hand and sighed. Tomorrow he would make sure the truck was parked in the woods a mile from camp for the underground agents. Tomorrow, Colonel Hogan would be in London. He hoped the hospital could help his commanding officer get well. Kinch hated to think of Hogan being permanently locked up in a psychiatric hospital. It would be a sad way to end his military career. But he sadly noted that regardless of what the future held for Hogan, his military career and heading the operation at Stalag 13 were finished. Even if Hogan recovered, he would be given a medical discharge. Kinch looked at the keys in his hand again, and promised himself he would lead the operation as Hogan would and make him proud. And should another officer come and take over, to him, nobody could replace Robert Hogan.

* * *

Wilkerson sat in his private quarters sipping another cup of tea and thinking. He thought about the plan Kinch had outlined. On the surface it sounded like a good plan. He had no doubts the men were more than capable. But two things worried him. How Hogan would react to being loaded on a plane and sedated for a trip to London? In his current state, his reaction to things was unpredictable. And what would happen to the operation with Hogan gone? Would London close down the entire operation? Would it continue with a new commanding officer? Or would another decision be made? The entire camp would have to wait.

Wilkerson removed Carpenter's dog tags from his breast pocket and looked at them. He had meant several times to give them to Kinch but forgot. Laying the tags on his desk, Wilkerson removed two sheets of writing paper. He sat his mug on his desk and picked up his pen. He then set about doing an unpleasant task Hogan disliked. He started to write a letter of condolence as the Acting Senior POW to General Carpenter on the death of his son.

* * *

Two hours later, the men in barracks two were busy. LeBeau and Addison worked on the uniforms in the tunnel. Newkirk monitored the switchboard being relieved every four hours by Segal who knew a few words of German. Carter sat on his bunk with knees drawn up to his chin, and arms wrapped around his legs. Kinch sat at the table drinking coffee. As he did so, the radioman's mind raced thinking of all the possibilities and making sure he prepared for any eventuality. He checked the time and sighed. London would not be the radio for several hours still.

"Kinch?"

The radioman turned hearing Carter say his name. "What is it, Andrew?" he asked.

The young Sergeant looked at the Staff Sergeant. "I was thinking."

"About what?"

"How things went so wrong. With the Colonel, I mean. What I guess I'm saying is, how could we have not seen what was happening to him?"

Kinch let out a deep breath as he mulled over Carter's question. How did they miss the signs?

"I have no idea," he said sadly. "I really have no idea at all."

* * *

(1)Vautour is a vulture.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

The heroes worked throughout the night to get everything ready for the following evening. LeBeau and Addison finished the Luftwaffe uniforms as the first signs of early morning were visible. Newkirk had reported no phone calls to or from Klink's office. But Segal and Baker continued to watch the switchboard. And during roll call, Wilkerson sat at the switchboard temporarily. His German was passable enough that he could fool anybody on the phone.

By the time roll call for barracks two was held, Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk were exhausted from being up the entire night. And except for Kinch, the others hoped to get several hours sleep. After breakfast, Kinch had to contact London and arrange with General Butler for the plane to take Hogan to London.

"Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for," Schultz reported with a salute. Burkhalter stood on the porch of the Kommandantur with hands clasped behind his back. He was watching roll call with a neutral expression on his face.

"Excellent, Schultz," Klink replied aware the General's eyes were on him. "Now prisoners, as I informed you yesterday, Colonel Hogan is to be transferred to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute today. After he is released from Hadamar, he will be repatriated back to the United States."

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau exchanged looks indicating they didn't believe a word.

"Any questions?" Klink asked looking at the men. Carter raised his hand. "You have a question, Carter?"

Carter stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yes, sir. Kommandant, is this Hadamar a good hospital? I mean, are the doctors there the best?"

The Kommandant forced a smile to appear on his face. "It is the best hospital we have. Colonel Hogan will receive excellent care so you don't have to worry," he lied hoping he sounded convincing. "They will do everything they can for him while he's there. That's all. Dissss-missssed." Exchanging salutes with Schultz, the Kommandant turned and walked away.

The prisoners dispersed except for the core unit and Schultz. The large guard sided up to the men.

"Something wrong, Schultzie?" asked LeBeau.

"I'm not sure," the guard said in a low voice. "But something isn't right. Everybody knows German hospitals will not treat Allied prisoners of war. This cannot be good."

"Anything you can tell us?" asked Kinch fishing for information.

"Nein. With General Burkhalter here, he is making sure the Kommandant keeps everything quiet and says nothing. Noth-ing."

"Thanks anyway, Schultz," Carter added.

"You're welcome. I will keep my eyes and ears open. Maybe I might find out something that will help."

LeBeau smiled affectionately at the larger man. He poked him in his large stomach. "Whatever happens, Schultzie, I will make you the biggest pan of apple strudel you have ever seen as thanks for helping protect Colonel Hogan."

Schultz's face took on a dreamy expression at the mention of his beloved apple strudel. He sighed. "Danke. Boy, I can't believe I am saying this. I don't want any strudel or chocolate. I am doing this because Colonel Hogan and you boys are my friends despite your monkey business. And I want each of you make it to the end of this war." He let out a deep breath. "But I'd better go." He turned and waddled away.

"Boy, I wish there were more Krauts like Schultz," Carter remarked. "Maybe then this war would be over."

Kinch let out a deep breath. "One could only wish, Andrew. C'mon, let's go have breakfast. I have to contact London in a few hours. After breakfast, Carter, I want you, LeBeau and Newkirk to get some sleep."

"What about you, mate?" asked Newkirk. "You were up all night as well."

Kinch pushed open the barracks door allowing Carter and Newkirk to pass him and into the hut. The two men paused and looked at the radioman as did Newkirk who still stood just outside the barracks. "Don't worry about me. I'll sleep sometime during the day."

* * *

Klink sat behind his desk watching Burkhalter pace back and forth. The General's presence was making him nervous, and he will be glad when he left. But he knew the General would stay until after Hogan had arrived at Hadamar. Klink shivered just thinking of the name. _I'm so sorry it's come to this, Hogan._ Klink didn't know much about Hadamar, but he had heard rumors. And the rumors, if true, were enough to scare him. And to think of Hogan being sent there saddened him. He looked again at Burkhalter.

"Is something wrong, Herr General?"

"I just want this entire unpleasant business with Hogan finished. There is enough tension among the prisoners right now. The sooner he is gone, the sooner things can get back to normal."

"Perhaps you could call Luftwaffe Headquarters again and see if they can come right away."

"There's no need for that, Klink. They will get here. Hopefully they will come after night roll call to collect Hogan."

Klink looked puzzled. "Why after night roll call, sir?"

Burkhalter rolled his eyes upward before looking at his subordinate. "Because, Klink, after night roll call the prisoners will be confined to their barracks. Nobody will be the wiser when Hogan is removed from camp. And when they wake the following morning, Hogan will be gone and the matter finished." The General sat in the chair against the wall near the door. He ran a hand over his face. "I must admit that I never thought I would see Hogan in this condition. He always appeared so indestructible even for an American."

"I know what you mean, Herr General. It just goes to show how the Gestapo can break a man. And they didn't have Hogan in custody." Klink let out a deep breath. "Sir, do you still want to know if and what the connection is between the late Lieutenant and Hogan?"

Burkhalter sighed. "It's not necessary. The main thing is to conclude this matter as quickly as possible."

* * *

Kinch adjusted the headset on his head and switched the frequency on the radio to the emergency wavelength.

"Papa Bear to Goldilocks. Papa Bear to Goldilocks. Come in Goldilocks."

"This is Goldilocks, Papa Bear," answered a female voice.

"This is a Code Red, Goldilocks. Repeat. This is a Code Red. We must speak with General Butler at once."

"Hold for General Butler." A few minutes passed.

"This General Butler, Papa Bear. I assume you have important news since you used the Code Red."

"We do, sir. We intercepted a phone call by General Burkhalter to Luftwaffe Headquarters. The Krauts are transferring Colonel Hogan to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute, and afterwards, repatriating him back to the U.S."

"That doesn't sound good to me."

"It doesn't to us either, General. We suspect it could be a death sentence for the Colonel. We need to get him out of Germany today."

"You have a plan?"

"Yes, sir. We will have members of the underground pose as Luftwaffe guards sent by Luftwaffe Headquarters. They will remove the Colonel from camp. We will be joining them and make sure he reaches the hidden airstrip."

"Sounds like a good plan."

"Thank you, sir. We'll be carrying out the plan after night roll call at 2100 hours."

"The plane will be there waiting. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. Just one more thing." Kinch took a deep breath. "We've decided after we get Colonel Hogan out of Germany, to have the Krauts think he's dead. This way they won't look for him and he'll be safe."

"How do you plan to do that if I might ask?"

Kinch explained his plan to Butler who listened patiently. When he finished, he waited for Butler's response and feedback.

"I hope it works. Good luck. Once Hogan's plane arrives in London, we'll be in touch. Goldilocks out."

"Roger, General. Papa Bear out." Kinch removed the headset and tossed it on the table. He set the frequency back to the normal wavelength. He hid a yawn behind the back of his hand. He was so tired, but relieved that everything was set now except hiding the truck which he'd do after dinner.

"Why don't you go upstairs Sergeant and sleep. I'm sure you could use it," said a familiar voice.

Kinch turned and was greeted by the smiling face of Wilkerson. He smiled himself. "I'm okay, Matt."

"Sure you are," Wilkerson replied putting a hand on Kinch's shoulder. "Was that London you were speaking with just now?"

"Yeah. The plane will be here. I just need to move the truck into the woods. The four underground agents will be here at 2130 hours with the truck. Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau, Wilson, and myself will leave here as soon as the truck drives out the front gates."

"Sounds like you have everything under control. Now I'm going to pull rank, Staff Sergeant Kinchloe," Wilkerson said with a smirk. "Go upstairs and rest. Make that an order. I'll get somebody to watch the radio for you. I promise to wake you if something happens."

Kinch chuckled and saluted. "Yes, sir," he kidded before getting to his feet and heading in the direction of the ladder which led to the hut.

* * *

Kinch woke up hours later; Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk at the table drinking coffee.

"Well look who decided to rejoin the human race," Newkirk kidded.

The radioman sat up and ran both hands over his face. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

Newkirk smirked. "Oh, 'bout seven hours or so. You missed lunch, mate. Louie made something edible this time." He chuckled as LeBeau scowled at the Englander.

Kinch walked to the table. He yawned.

"I saved you some stew, mon ami. I can heat it up for you."

"Thanks, LeBeau." Kinch shifted his eyes to Newkirk. "Who's monitoring the radio and the switchboard?"

"Olsen's watching the radio. And Baker's monitoring the switchboard. Everything's quiet so far."

"Good," Kinch yawned again. He looked at LeBeau gratefully when the Frenchman sat a cup of hot coffee in front of him. The radioman took a drink and savored the hot liquid. A few minutes later, LeBeau sat a bowl of hot stew in front of him before he returned to his seat beside Newkirk.

Kinch checked the time. It was 1530 hours. He took a bite of the stew and a contented smile crossed his face. "It's delicious," he said.

Delight appeared on LeBeau's face. "Merci."

Kinch took another mouthful and chewed. "The underground agents will be here in a few hours. "Carter, when the time comes, I want you and LeBeau to meet them and bring them here. Once roll call is over, Newkirk, I want you to get Wilson. I want us to be ready to leave right after the truck passes through the front gates and out of camp."

"You got it," Newkirk replied.

Kinch sighed. "If everything goes according to plan, the truck and the Colonel will leave here about 2200 hours. Right after roll call, we get Wilson. We wait fifteen minutes after the truck leaves before we leave. The truck will wait for us at the same location where I left it a mile from camp. We then go ahead from there to the hidden airstrip. Any questions?" He looked at each man. "Carter?"

"Why can't we move Colonel Hogan before roll call?"

Newkirk and LeBeau both rolled their eyes skyward. Kinch looked at the young Sergeant with understanding. " Because Burkhalter won't want the guards to show up until after roll call and the prisoners are confined to their barracks for the night."

"If we were to make our move earlier," added LeBeau. "Klink and Burkhalter would be afraid the prisoners will interfere with the Colonel being removed from camp."

"And that could lead to trouble," Newkirk added. "There's enough bleedin' tension in this camp with everybody knowin' 'bout the Gov'nor's depression. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"Ease up on Carter. He asked a reasonable question. No need to jump on 'im." Kinch took a drink of coffee after finishing his stew.

* * *

Wilson approached the guard standing outside the cell in which Hogan was being held. He carried his medical bag with him. The guard stared at him with disinterest.

"I'm here to examine the prisoner. Please open the cell."

"Nein," the guard replied tersely continuing to stare.

Wilson sighed. "Look, I need to examine Colonel Hogan. Please open the cell."

"I said _nein!_" The guard pointed his rifle at the medic. Wilson froze not daring to try and make a move toward the guard. Instead, he let out a deep breath and kept his eyes on the man's face.

"I'm not lying if that's what you think. General Burkhalter wants me to make sure Colonel Hogan is in good health. But I can't do that if I can't examine him. Now please unlock the cell. Or I will be forced to tell the General I was refused and he will be very displeased with you. Especially if something happens to the Colonel."

The guard didn't respond. Nor did he lower his weapon. All he knew was that the American he was guarding was crazy and not to have visitors. And he was to keep an eye on him until he was transferred. Besides, he didn't trust Americans. They were dogs, all of them.

Wilson took a small step toward the guard, and instantly froze again when there was the click of a safety being removed. He knew he had to be careful.

"What do you think you are doing?!" shouted a familiar voice from behind the medic. Wilson turned and spotted Schultz approaching, with what appeared to be anger on his face. He came up beside Wilson. "Put the safety back on your rifle and lower your weapon at once!"

The guard shifted his eyes between the two men. He put the safety back on his rifle and lowered his weapon. He kept his glare on the medic who didn't look away.

"Unlock the prisoner's cell at once!" The guard hesitated. "What are you waiting for?! Unlock the cell door!"

The guard did as ordered and stood aside to allow Wilson to enter. As he stood in the doorway of the cell, the medic glanced at the large man. "Thanks, Schultz,' he said, then entered.

"You're welcome," said Schultz. As Wilson walked into the cell, Schultz turned to the other guard. "Dummkopf! I am going to report you to General Burkhalter and Kommandant Klink. They want the prisoner in good health when he is transferred. Do you understand?"

"Jawohl, Herr Feldwebel," replied the guard coming to attention.

"And until he is transferred, Sergeant Wilson is allowed to check on the prisoner whenever he wants. Understand?"

"Jawohl."

"Good. Now I will stay here until he has completed his examination. Is that understood?"

"Jawohl."

"Good. See that you remember it." Schultz stood blocking the cell door, his eyes watching Wilson kneeling beside the bunk listening to Hogan's heart with his stethoscope.

"Colonel, it's Wilson," the medic whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me. We're getting you and Terry out of here. Tonight. Just hang in a bit longer, sir."


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: There are only two more chapters left.  
**

**Chapter 42**

Kinch stepped over the bed frame and into the barracks. Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau and Olsen were seated at the table watching him.

"Any problems?" Olsen asked as Kinch hit the hidden mechanism and the lower bunk dropped over the tunnel opening.

"Nope," Kinch replied joining the others. "The truck is parked in the woods, off the road, one mile from camp. Olsen, after the underground agents change into Luftwaffe uniforms, take them to the truck then come straight back."

"Will do," Olsen answered.

Kinch checked the time. It was exactly 1900 hours. "Carter, LeBeau, get changed and head out. You have to meet the underground operatives at 2000 hours. And good luck."

"Right," Carter replied as he and the little Frenchman bolted to their feet. They hurried to the double bunk in the corner.

"So I guess it's time," Newkirk looked at Kinch, green eyes showing his true emotions.

Kinch let out a deep breath through his mouth. "It's time."

* * *

It was rapidly approaching 2030 hours when Kinch, Olsen and Newkirk made their way into the tunnel to await the arrival of Carter and LeBeau, and their guests. Kinch checked his watch for the umpteenth time.

"Quit worryin'. They'll be here," Newkirk assured him. He didn't want Kinch to know he was as nervous and worried as he was.

"I know they will. And you're right. This is the most important mission we're ever gonna have. One mistake could be costly."

Newkirk put a hand on the radioman's shoulder. "Y'know something, mate? You worry too much. Just like the Colonel always did. That's one of the things which makes you and the him alike. But there won't be any mistakes, mate. We won't let there be. You have to believe that."

Kinch grinned at the Englander. "Thanks, Newkirk. I guess I needed somebody to tell me things will work out as planned." He clamped a hand on Newkirk's shoulder in response. The sound of voices coming toward them interrupted the two men. As they waited, Carter and LeBeau, both dressed in black with grease smeared on their faces, came into view. A few steps behind them were the four underground agents.

Kinch, Olsen and Newkirk shook hands with each of the four men.

"Glad you and your men could make it, Bruno," Kinch said to the blond-haired, blue-eyed operative. He led the way to the changing room.

"Anything for Papa Bear," Bruno answered with a sad smile on his handsome face. "How is he by the way?"

"Not good," Newkirk sighed. "The Krauts want to send 'im to Hadamar for treatment. But we think it's a fancy cover for having the Gov'nor killed." He sat on a stool near the doorway of the changing room.

"Oui. Especially considering how Bosche Hitler feels about certain groups of people."

Bruno nodded, understanding. "Do not worry. Your plan will work. But we'd best change into our uniforms."

Kinch checked the time. "It's about ten after eight. After you change clothes, Olsen here will escort you to where the truck is hidden in the woods, just off the road about a mile from camp."

"Then we wait until 2130 hours before we show up in camp," Bruno explained unbuttoning his shirt."

"Right," Kinch added. "You'll be Captain Gebauer, and will deal with Burkhalter and Klink, but mostly Burkhalter. You and your men were sent by Captain Eisenhauer of Luftwaffe Headquarters. You are here to pick up an American Air Force officer for transfer to Hadamar near Wiesbaden. Remember to leave Stalag 13 no later than 2200 hours if possible. Park the truck in the same place and wait. Roll call for us is 2100 hours. We'll join you between 2230 and 2245 hours barring any problems. Then we'll head to the secret airfield where a plane will be waiting."

Newkirk handed Kinch a folded set of papers and walked away. The radioman examined the papers. "These are your signed orders authorizing you to pick up the prisoner and escort him to Hadamar."

Bruno looked at the papers, nodded, folded them, and tucked them inside his Luftwaffe officer's jacket.

As the four men continued to get dressed, Kinch turned to Carter and LeBeau. "Get changed and get back upstairs you two. We have roll call at 2100 hours."

Newkirk reappeared carrying a pair of shackles. With a grim expression, he handed them to Kinch. The radioman turned toward Bruno. "Your men will have to secure these on Colonel Hogan's wrists and ankles." Bruno's expression indicated his displeasure. "It would cause questions if they weren't used."

With a nod of his head, Bruno took the shackles and handed them to one of his men who was already changed. "Do we remove the shackles while we're waiting for you to join us?"

Kinch swallowed hard. "No," he said. "Don't remove them until I tell you." He looked at Newkirk. "C'mon, let's get upstairs." Good luck," he said with a final glance at Olsen and the others.

* * *

At 2100 hours, the men of barracks two dragged themselves outside in the night air to stand in formation. Kinch was in his usual spot beside Carter; while Newkirk stood beside LeBeau. The four men only hoped roll call wouldn't take too long. They had to get Wilson and change into their blacks before heading out through the tunnel.

Fortunately, Klink was mercifully short and didn't make any speeches. In fact, to Kinch, the Kommandant seemed to be on the nervous side. When they were dismissed, the men returned to the barracks at 9:25pm. Minutes later the lights were turned out and all but four prisoners were tucked in their beds settling down for a night's sleep.

Kinch cracked open the door of the barracks. Seeing nobody, he closed the door quietly. "Carter, watch through the periscope and let us know when you see the truck."

"Right." Carter raised the faucets of the sink which were connected to a periscope in the water barrel outside the hut. Pressing his eyes against the bottom of the faucets, he scanned the front gates. "Nothing yet."

"They'll be here," Kinch advised still standing by the door. Another five minutes passed.

"They're here!" Carter said excitedly. They passed through the front gate." He followed the truck until it pulled up outside the Kommandantur. He saw Bruno and two guards get out of the truck and walk up the steps of the building and into the waiting room of the building. The two guards were carrying shackles in their hands with their rifles draped over their shoulders. "They're going inside."

"Carter, stay here and let us know if anything changes. LeBeau, Newkirk, with me." Kinch led the way into Hogan's office where he hurriedly plugged in the coffee pot. There was the sound of a door opening and closing.

"_General Burkhalter. Colonel Klink. I am Captain Gebauer. I was sent by Captain Eisenhauer to pick up a prisoner for transport to Hadamar. Here are my papers."_

"_These seem to be in order, Captain." _It was Burkhalter's voice.

"_Herr General, we are running a bit late and would like to get the prisoner to Hadamar as soon-as-possible. May I inquire as to where the prisoner is at this moment?"_

"_He is in solitary confinement. He has had outbursts of anger_ _and it was thought advisable for the safety of the guards here."_

"_I understand, Mein Herr. Kommandant Klink, could you take us to your solitary cells so my men can secure the prisoner and we can be on our way?"_

"_Klink, show Captain Gebauer and his men to Hogan's cell."_

"_Right away, Herr General."_

"_Captain, once your men have secured the prisoner in the truck, come back to the office and sign these papers showing you have taken possession of the prisoner. Then you can be on your way."_

"_Understood, Mein Herr."_

Hearing the sound of the door opening and closing, Kinch unplugged the coffee pot.

"Looks like everything's going according to plan," Newkirk remarked.

"Yeah," Kinch agreed. "Now we wait until the truck leaves." The men followed him into the common room. The radioman suddenly looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, go to the cooler area. After you see the truck leave, come straight back here. Carter, keep watching until the truck leaves the camp."

"On my way." LeBeau slipped out of the barracks.

* * *

Bruno and his men followed Klink to the cooler area. The minute the duo came into sight, the guard on duty came to immediate attention. It was the same guard who had given Wilson so much trouble earlier. Klink looked at him.

"Unlock the door, Corporal," Klink ordered.

"Jawohl, Herr Oberst." Removing the key ring from his belt, the Corporal unlocked the cell door and held it open. He waited as the two guards carrying the shackles marched inside the cell. Bruno and Klink stood in the doorway watching.

Hogan was laying on his side staring into space with a blank expression. His eyes shifted to the two guards as one secured one set of shackles on his wrists, the other guard secured the other set around his ankles. Hogan had offered no resistance nor did he put up a fight.

It pained Bruno's heart seeing Papa Bear this way. But he kept his face impassive. "Are you sure this man is dangerous and crazy, Kommandant? He looks like a sad excuse of an American to me," Bruno said with a smirk.

But Klink didn't share in his little joke. "He is prone to outbursts of anger at any time. He's also been holding conversations with dead people."

Bruno nodded. "I would say he is definitely crazy. And the Fuhrer's orders regarding his type must be carried out with no exceptions."

"So I understand," Klink replied dully. Hogan was dragged to his feet, arms hanging listlessly at his sides, and his expression still blank. He seemed oblivious of what was taking place around him. It troubled the two underground agents knowing Colonel Hogan well. One guard grabbed each arm and escorted the prisoner out of the cell.

"Put him in the truck," Bruno ordered. "I must see General Burkhalter before we can leave. We have a long train ride ahead of us."

"Jawohl, Captain," one guard, a Sergeant, said saluting.

As Bruno and Klink walked away, the two underground guards led Hogan toward the open cell door. The Colonel didn't look right or left, but kept his eyes straight ahead and maintained his vacant stare. The two agents exchanged subtle looks with each other. They felt sorrow at seeing Hogan in this condition, but kept their faces neutral. Hogan's life, as well as theirs, depended on their keeping their true feelings hidden. The Corporal who had been standing guard over Hogan while he was locked up, shut the cell door. He followed the two guards, his rifle ready should it be needed.

As they continued on their way out of the cooler area, Bruno and Klink re-entered the Kommandant's office. Burkhalter turned and looked at the two men.

"Back so soon?" the General asked.

"My men have restrained the prisoner and he is at this moment, being taken to the truck." Bruno paused for a moment. "You said you had papers for me to sign, Herr General?"

Burkhalter removed a folded sheath of papers from inside his jacket pocket. Bruno grabbed Klink's pen and hastily signed all five copies, one of which was handed to him. Bruno placed the paper inside his jacket. He came to attention and smartly saluted Burkhalter who returned his salute.

"Auf Wiedersehen. Heil Hitler." He turned and walked out of the office leaving Klink and Burkhalter alone.

Burkhalter, after the door closed, turned to the Kommandant. "Klink, this matter has now been concluded. But I will stay here until I am notified Hogan has arrived at Hadamar."

Klink tensed at the thought of having Burkhalter hanging around the camp a while longer. "But, Herr General, what do I tell the prisoners in the morning at roll call?"

Burkhalter slammed his hand on the desk so hard Klink jumped. "Dummkopf! You will tell the prisoners only that Colonel Hogan was picked up the night before by the hospital."

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent, Klink. It has been a long day. I think I will turn in now. I suggest you do the same."

"Yes, sir."

With a smirk, Burkhalter opened the door to the office and started out the door. "Good night."

Klink smiled weakly. "Good night, Herr General."

* * *

The two guards led Hogan into the compound outside the cooler and to the truck. Hogan stood before the truck and stared inside the back. He looked around him at each guard with a sad expression before he turned his attention to the shackles on his wrists.

"Get in the truck," one of the underground agents ordered coolly. Hogan stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He didn't move though.

Impatient to be rid of his charge, the armed guard jammed the business end of his rifle in Hogan's back.

"Move, dog! Schnell!" He jammed the rifle into his back again harder this time causing Hogan to stumble. "I said _move!_"

One of the underground operatives grabbed the rifle and forced it down while giving the guard a harsh glare. "I suggest you leave this to us," he explained. "I'm sure General Burkhalter would not be pleased if something were to happen to the prisoner before he reached his destination."

"What is going on here?" asked Bruno staring at both men. He had seen the exchange and now decided to make his presence known.

"This American dog wouldn't get in the truck when ordered," the guard explained.

"So you thought you would 'help' him get in the truck with your rifle, Corporal?" Bruno hissed giving the guard so cold a stare the man swallowed nervously before him. "Your presence is no longer needed here. I suggest you return to your quarters before I report your actions to Kommandant Klink and General Burkhalter." He smirked. "You are a fairly young man, Corporal, I'd hate for you to be sent to the Russian front because of this. So I suggest you get out of my sight before I change my mind."

The Corporal saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Captain. Danke." The Corporal hurried away from the area as fast as his legs could move.

Now alone with the Colonel, Bruno gently grabbed one of Hogan's arms while one of the guards, having climbed into the back of the truck, grabbed the other. "Hurry and get into the truck, Colonel. We need to leave now if we're to get you out of here."

Hogan turned and looked sadly at Bruno who saw the despair and sadness in Hogan's eyes. The Colonel looked inside the truck again.

"Hey, Rob, get yourself in here," Terry called out in a loud voice. "The guys are gettin' us outta Germany. You're holding up things."

With a sad smile, Hogan allowed himself to be helped into the truck. The other guard got in as well. Hogan sat between the two guards and stared at Terry who sat across from him. Bruno walked to the cab of the vehicle and climbed in beside his driver.

"Let's go," he said quietly.

As the truck drove away, a pair of eyes observed from the shadows until the truck approached the front gate. He chewed his lower lip as he continued to look, hoping nothing went wrong now that they were so close. A smile appeared as the truck drove through the front gates as it left Stalag 13. The small man smiled, and hurried away to report what he had seen.

* * *

LeBeau ran back to the barracks nearly being caught by the searchlight passing in front of the hut. He found Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and Wilson seated at the table waiting.

"There was only a small amount of trouble," the Frenchman explained between pants. "But Bruno handled it well. The truck left the cooler area."

Kinch smiled. "And Carter saw it drive through the front gates." He got to his feet as did the others. "Gentlemen, let's get a move on. We have a ride waiting for us."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Kinch led the way through the dense foliage after he, Wilson, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk emerged from the emergency tunnel inside the tree stump. The men were dressed in their blacks, and except for Kinch, their faces smeared with grease. Wilson, who never went out with the team, wore dark clothing and also had his face smeared with grease. He carried his worn medical bag. The others were armed. Kinch and LeBeau walked ahead of Wilson, with Carter and Newkirk behind the medic watching the backs of those in front of them.

They had traveled a short distance when the snap of a twig ahead of them caused the men to freeze. Kinch put a forefinger to his lips. The men followed his example, crouched low, and stayed quiet, expecting a German patrol at any moment. Straining his eyes, Kinch breathed a sigh of relief when a deer appeared. The animal froze for a few seconds before bolting into the woods when the men got to their feet.

"Gee, she sure was pretty," Carter commented. He recalled the stray deer he had often seen on his parents farm as a child.

Newkirk chuckled. "Leave it to Carter to find something beautiful in the woods tonight."

Carter shrugged, his cheeks blushing. "Well, considering what's happened the last few weeks, it's nice to see something beautiful for a change."

Kinch allowed the corners of his mouth to turn upwards for a moment. Sometimes he envied Carter's ability to see the beauty in things even in the most trying of times.

"C'mon everybody, be quiet and let's get going," Kinch ordered in a voice just above a whisper. The men continued on their way. After another ten minutes, the men found the truck parked in the designated place. Bruno, still seated in the front passenger seat spotted the men. He got out of the cab and shook hands with Kinch, a smile on his face.

"I began to worry you weren't going to make it," he said.

"Sorry, mate. On the way here we thought we heard a Kraut patrol."

"But it was just a deer," LeBeau added.

"A pretty one," Carter interjected. He looked at the Frenchman after LeBeau poked him in his back. "What was that for?"

"Nobody cares about the deer," LeBeau mumbled.

"How is Colonel Hogan?" Wilson asked.

Bruno gestured for them to follow him to the back of the truck. "He hasn't said a single word from the time we left the camp. All he does is follow everybody with his eyes. I must admit it's scary. Papa Bear is always so active."

The men stood looking at their commanding officer who didn't seem to be aware of their presence. He just sat in a corner of the truck with his head against the wall.

"Blimey," was all Newkirk could utter. The Englander and Wilson both climbed in the back of the truck. Newkirk crouched in front of Hogan. "Colonel? Colonel, it's me. Ole Newkirk." A small smile appeared on the Englander's face as Hogan's empty brown eyes met Newkirk's green ones.

"Newkirk." Hogan's voice sounded devoid of emotion.

"Gov'nor," the Englander said eyes bright with tears he struggled to keep his composure. He didn't want to break down in front of the others. But it was hard seeing Hogan like this. "And you still are the Gov'nor. We're all here for you, sir. Me, Kinch, Andrew, LeBeau. Even Wilson is here." Hogan grabbed the front of the Englander's turtleneck with his hands. He looked into Newkirk's face with a terrified expression.

"Newkirk, don't let them take me. I don't want to go with them. Please. Don't let them take me."

"Let who take you, sir?"

"That…woman who died and Claude Benoit. They want to take me with them to punish me for letting them die. If I go with them they'll kill me. They will. I don't want to die."

Newkirk swallowed the lump in his throat as he gently gripped Hogan's hands in both of his. "Sir, you aren't gonna die. And we aren't gonna let 'em take you away. You have to trust us. We aren't gonna let anybody hurt you and Terry, sir. I promise." He glanced at the others briefly. "But we have to get a move on if we're gonna get you and Terry out of Germany."

"Out of Germany?"

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau chimed in as he climbed in the truck followed by Carter and Kinch. "It is for the best. This way they cannot find you."

Newkirk gently removed Hogan's hands from his sweater and moved out of the way to let Wilson replace him.

"Colonel, how you holding up so far?" asked Wilson. The others stayed out of the medic's way and kept their eyes on Hogan. Bruno stood outside the truck watching. Kinch could only shake his head. The Colonel didn't respond to Wilson's question. He just looked at him with sad, lifeless eyes.

Kinch motioned to Bruno. "Let's get going. That plane isn't gonna wait forever."

Bruno nodded and hurried to the front of the truck and got in beside the driver. The ride to the hidden airfield was in silence.

Wilson and the others kept a close eye on their soon-to-be former commanding officer. That title sounded so weird to the five men. They couldn't even process that possibility.

The ride was not a long one, and soon they arrived at the hidden airfield. Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk got out of the truck while Wilson and LeBeau stayed with Hogan. Kinch and Carter, guns in their hands, crouched behind several bushes with Newkirk who held a flashlight. The trio looked up at the dark sky for about five minutes before they heard the roar of a plane overhead. Then the signals were given: two white, one blue, one white.

"There's the signal," Kinch explained. "Give 'em the reply."

Newkirk flashed the response: one white, one blue, two white. The men waited for the plane to land before they emerged from their hiding place. The plane coasted to a stop, its propellers still spinning but slower. The hatch opened, and two men who Kinch suspected were medics, jumped out of the plane. The duo carried a stretcher between them. Newkirk and Carter led the medics to the truck with Kinch following, keeping lookout for uninvited guests. One medic climbed in the truck, dragging the stretcher in with him. His eyes fell on Hogan.

"Is the Colonel the patient?" he asked gently looking at Wilson.

"Yes," Wilson replied. "I'm Sergeant Wilson, medic at Stalag 13. Colonel Hogan has been under my care."

"I'm Sergeant Branson," the medic replied shaking hands with Wilson. "That's my partner, Sergeant Reiner. General Butler sent us to take charge of Colonel Hogan." After introductions were made, Branson lay the stretcher flat and locked it into position. He then crouched down beside the officer and touched his shoulder. "Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan shied away from the hand touching him. A look of sheer panic and terror appeared. "Stay away from me!" he shouted. "You've been sent by them to harm me and Terry. I won't let you take him away. I won't!" Hogan suddenly shoved Wilson aside, lunged at, and grabbed Branson around the throat. "I'll see you dead before I let you take him away!"

Hogan's actions were so quick they caught everybody by surprise. Fortunately, one of Bruno's men and LeBeau were the first to regain their senses. They managed to pull the officer off Branson while Wilson prepared a syringe.

"Hold him!" Wilson ordered. He grabbed the shoulder of Hogan's leather jacket and yanked it off his shoulder, ripping the shirt sleeve under the jacket. He jabbed the syringe into his arm and pushed the plunger.

The sedative worked quickly. Hogan's head lolled from side-to-side before finally falling against LeBeau.

"I gave him a strong enough sedative that he'll sleep for at least eight to twelve hours," Wilson explained. He looked at Branson who was rubbing his throat. "You okay?"

The medic nodded. "Has he been acting like that? Sudden outbursts of anger? Signs of hostility?"

"Afraid so," Wilson admitted. "I suggest when you get him to the hospital that he be restrained if not for his own protection, then for anybody who comes in contact with him." Wilson inwardly cringed at the thought of Hogan being restrained in a hospital bed, but he was too unpredictable with his violent outbursts not to be.

"Understood," Branson said. "We'd best get him on the stretcher so we can move him to the plane." Together, Wilson and Branson gently lifted the officer and placed him on the stretcher. Branson made sure to secure the restraints before he and Wilson lifted the stretcher and carried it to the edge of the truck. Reiner helped ease the stretcher out of the truck with Branson holding the other end. The two medics carried the stretcher to the plane. LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk, Kinch, and Wilson followed them keeping out of their way.

Once the stretcher was secured on-board the plane, Kinch climbed in, reached into his pocket, and removed a set of keys. He unlocked the shackles around Hogan's wrists and ankles. "He doesn't need these now," he added tossing the shackles aside. He reached into another pocket and removed a folded envelope. He handed it to Branson. "Give this to General Butler. He's expecting it."

"What is it?" Branson asked.

"It's a letter of condolence. The General knows who to give it to."

The medic promised he would deliver the envelope, and tucked it in his jacket pocket.

Kinch exited the plane. Branson and his partner started to close the hatch when the radioman suddenly stopped him. "Wait." Branson looked at the radioman questioningly.

Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk and Wilson, stood side-by-side, their eyes on Hogan who was unconscious. "Ten hut!" Kinch said. The men came to attention, and gave Hogan their smartest salute. There were also tears in their eyes as they lowered their arms and the hatch began to close. They moved out of the way as the propellers sped up and the plane turned.

"Bonne chance, mon Colonel," LeBeau stammered as the plane become smaller as it got further away.

"S'long, Colonel," Carter's lower lip trembled. "We'll see you as soon as we get to London after the war. We promise."

Whatever Newkirk was thinking he kept to himself. He let out a deep breath. Wiping his eye, he told himself it was a speck of dirt.

Kinch chewed his lower lip. "I'll get the men home safely, Colonel. I promise. You just get well."

Wilson kept his thoughts to himself as did Newkirk. "Goodbye, sir. Now you'll get the help we couldn't give you."

The plane soon became nothing more than a dot. Kinch turned to the others. "Let's get back to camp. We have one final part of this plan to carry out. Bruno, you and your men will come back with us. We're gonna need your help with this."

"You can count on me," Bruno said shakily. "And might I add that both I and the underground grieve along with you. Colonel Hogan was a courageous man. He will be missed greatly."

"Thanks," Kinch replied patting Bruno on the back. The trip back to Stalag 13 was a silent one.

* * *

It took the men nearly an hour to make it back to Stalag 13 and into the tunnels. After everybody had changed into their regular clothes, they sat around the switchboard. Baker had informed them upon their return there had been no calls. And Olsen, watching the radio, reported no messages had been received. Kinch discovered from Baker that Wilkerson had ordered Saunders to plug in the coffee pot and listen once he learned the men were back. Five minutes later, Wilkerson appeared from the direction of the radio room. The men were seated around the switchboard looking glum.

"Did everything go all right?" he asked.

"Things went as planned, mate," Newkirk replied running a hand up and down one thigh. "Couldn't have gone better."

Wilkerson's eyebrows knitted. "There's something none of you are telling me. Did something happen?" Nobody said anything and exchanged looks with each other. Wilkerson crossed his arms across his chest and looked at each man. "I'm waiting."

LeBeau exhaled. "The Colonel tried to choke one of the medics who arrived with the plane. He accused him of trying to take Terry away."

Wilkerson shook his head. "Is the medic all right?"

"Oui. Wilson managed to sedate the Colonel before any real damage was done." LeBeau swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "It was so hard to see mon Colonel that way. I only hope they can help him in London."

"One thing is he'll get better care then he would've gotten in Germany," Carter reminded the Frenchman.

"Oui," LeBeau replied. "But it was still difficult to watch Colonel Hogan lose control as he did."

Kinch checked the time. "It's show time. Bruno, you understand what you have to say. Make 'em believe you. Baker, ring Klink's office."

"Right," Baker said as he plugged into the switchboard.

"Why the office, mate? Wouldn't ole Klink be asleep by this time?"

Kinch shook his head. "The lights were on in his office. Burkhalter is waiting for word that the Colonel boarded the train bound for Hadamar before he turns in for the night."

"It's ringing," Baker replied. He quickly handed Bruno the microphone and extra headset.

* * *

Burkhalter and Klink were involved in their second game of chess in the Kommandant's office. Klink was contemplating his next move when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he ordered not looking up when the door opened.

"Herr, Kommandant?"

"Yes, Schultz, what is it now?" Klink asked still concentrating on the chessboard.

"Just wanted to let you know everything is quiet."

"Excellent." Klink, having purposely let Burkhalter win the first game, made his move knowing it would enable Burkhalter to win this one as well. He figured it was safer to let the General win than to defeat the General and make him angry.

"If I didn't know any better, Klink, I would say you made that stupid move on purpose," Burkhalter said with a smirk. He moved his piece. "Checkmate."

"You won again, sir. I obviously need more practice if I'm going to be able to beat you." Klink feigned a smile. His smile turned into a frown when he saw Schultz was still waiting in the doorway. "Why are you still here?"

Schultz shrugged. "Did you or the General need anything?"

At that moment, the telephone rang. Klink grabbed the receiver. "Klink speaking. Who? Oh, yes, Captain Gebauer. Yes, General Burkhalter is right here. We were waiting for your call. Hold one moment." Klink handed the receiver to Burkhalter. "It's Captain Gebauer, Herr General."

"I never would have guessed," Burkhalter said sarcastically taking the receiver. He pressed it to his ear. "Burkhalter here. What's the latest news?" As the General listened, both Klink and Schultz saw his face pale and looked at each other, puzzled. "So he is dead? You're sure? Thank you for calling. Goodbye." The General hung up the phone with his hand resting on the receiver. After several seconds, he sighed and sat in his chair.

"Sir, I take it there was bad news?" asked Klink afraid of what he was going to hear.

"Captain Gebauer told me while enroute to the train station, Colonel Hogan attacked one of the two guards and made a break for it. The other guard shot him dead."

Schultz swallowed hard. "Colonel Hogan is dead, Herr General?" he asked quietly.

"That's what I said," Burkhalter repeated. "He was shot trying to escape." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "It doesn't really matter anyway. He would have faced the same fate at Hadamar. The matter is finished as far as I am concerned, and as far as you're concerned Klink."

"But Herr General, what do we tell the prisoners?" asked Klink.

Burkhalter leaned toward the desk, angry. "Klink, you tell the prisoners nothing! Hogan's death will stay between the three of us in this office. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Klink replied timidly.

"Why so glum, Klink? With Hogan dead, Major Hochstetter will no longer have a reason to come to Stalag 13. You should be grateful for small favors."

"Herr General, I don't think I can hide this from the prisoners in barracks two," Schultz bit his lower lip.

Burkhalter glared at him. "Then I suggest you find a way, Schultz, or I can have you on your way to Stalingrad before breakfast tomorrow." He smirked. "What about it, Sergeant? Can you now find it in you to keep this to yourself?"

"Jawohl, Herr General." He looked at Klink. "Am I dismissed, Herr Kommandant?"

Klink exchanged salutes. He knew how close Schultz was to the prisoners in barracks two, especially Hogan and the men always with him. "Yes, you are dismissed."

"Jawohl." Schultz quietly walked out of the office and closed the door. By the time he stood on the porch, he looked around the empty compound and sighed. He wiped at his eyes pretending he had something in them. He stepped off the porch and walked to his quarters to mourn in private for a man for whom he could not mourn in public.

Burkhalter sighed as he struggled out of his chair. "Klink, tomorrow you will prepare a report for Berlin stating what happened. You will also include that while on his way to Hadamar, Colonel Hogan attacked one of his guards, and was shot while trying to escape. I will back you all the way. And Klink, what I said to Schultz goes for you as well."

"Yes, sir." Klink trembled recalling the words.

"Good. This has been a long day. I will turn in now. Tomorrow I will leave for Berlin after I review your report."

"Good night, Herr General."

Klink watched as his superior officer left his office. Things would never be the same.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N: This is the final chapter. Thanks to all who have hung in there, read, and reviewed. Thanks again and Happy New Year to all.  
**

**Chapter 44**

Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Wilkerson sat at the table in barracks two, each with an untouched cup of coffee in front of him. Each man lost in his own thoughts. It had been nearly four hours since the plane had taken off for London with Hogan on board. Sergeant Segal had come upstairs to tell the men General Butler had called to inform them the plane had arrived safely. Hogan was now in a hospital and would receive the best care possible.

Newkirk stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag. He knew he should feel good their plan worked, but he didn't. He suspected the others didn't as well.

"Y'know, Carter asked me a question a few days ago that has stuck in my mind," Kinch finally said breaking the silence.

"I did?" asked Carter, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Yeah. You asked me how we missed what was happening to Colonel Hogan. And I recall my answer was I had no idea." Kinch sighed wearily. "But I can't seem to get that question out of my mind."

Newkirk shrugged his shoulders. "I say we blew it, mates. I mean, we should have noticed something was off with the Gov'nor when he seemed to be his ole self again so quickly."

"Oui. We should have suspected he was hiding his true feelings. But we didn't."

"Yeah," Carter agreed sadly. "I mean, we saved his life. But we were so wrapped up in other things we didn't see Colonel Hogan was suffering."

"I understand we all believe we failed the Colonel," Wilkerson explained. "But we really didn't. We all knew how good the Colonel is at hiding from others whatever is bothering him. He didn't want us to worry about him. But even if we had known, he needed better care than we could offer him. But remember, we got him to London and he's alive and safe. So try and look at it as we did the only thing we could do for him."

Nobody spoke.

"Sergeant Kinchloe?" a voice spoke.

Kinch turned to see Private Simpson reluctantly approaching the table. He looked nervous.

"Yes, Private?" Kinch asked.

"I…I just want to say I'm sorry for what I said about Colonel Hogan before."

"There's no need to apologize. It was a difficult time for all of us."

"No. I need to say this. I was wrong about the Colonel. He's a good man. He didn't deserve what happened to him. I'm glad you were able to get him out of Germany. That's all I wanted to say."

Kinch smiled. Newkirk let the corners of his mouth turn upward.

"Apology accepted, mate."

Slowly, Kinch got to his feet.

"Where are you going, mon ami?"

"I need to be alone for awhile," Kinch explained. "I'll be in the Colonel's quarters if you need me." He walked into Hogan's room and quietly shut the door. He sat alone in the darkened room and allowed his tears to fall.

"Despite what Wilkerson said, we failed you, Colonel," Kinch stammered. "And I am so, so sorry."

* * *

LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk and Wilkerson didn't move. Newkirk took another drag on his cigarette.

"Y'know what makes this so much worse?" the Englander began. He saw the others look at him.

"What, Pierre?"

"Having the rest of the blokes in this camp believe the Colonel was sent to a German hospital and then repatriated back to the states."

"I agree," added LeBeau. "It is unfortunate, but it must be this way. Can you imagine what will happen if the truth about Hadamar got out?"

"LeBeau's right," said Carter. "But I just think it's kinda sad Schultz can't be told Colonel Hogan's alive."

"Blimey, Carter. You understand why. Ole Schultzie can't keep a secret if it meant his life. He might tell somebody by accident, or let something slip. And the next thing you know, the Krauts know the Gov'nor's alive and we've had it."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "Only those involved can know the truth. The other prisoners must believe what Klink told them. But most important, the Bosche must believe the Colonel died. It's the only way to keep him and us safe."

* * *

Schultz had retired to his quarters after leaving the Kommandant's office. He still couldn't believe Colonel Hogan is dead. Shot after the American had tried to escape his guards. Schultz wiped his eyes as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks.

He was saddened by the senseless death. When he learned Hogan was dead, it just about broke the large man. The American officer was always pleasant and friendly. And even though Hogan often teased him, Schultz didn't mind. Hogan enjoyed kidding the large man. The American officer was a nice man and Schultz would miss him. In fact, he liked Colonel Hogan more than he liked Kommandant Klink. But he would never tell the Kommandant. Schultz also believed most of the guards in camp liked Hogan more than Klink. He wondered how he was going to keep the news from them. The guard wiped his pudgy cheeks. He had a hard time thinking of Hogan in the past tense. He let out a deep breath, and looked up to the heavens with red, wet, swollen eyes.

"Do not worry about your men, Colonel Hogan. I promise you I will look after them and keep them safe. It is the least I can do for you."

* * *

Klink downed his third glass of Schnapps and poured himself a fourth. He hoped his fourth drink would get him drunk. He wanted to get drunk and forget. Forget that Hogan is dead and that he, Wilhelm Klink, had had a hand in that death. Klink downed his fourth drink. He should have done something, anything. He should have lied to the General instead of spilling his guts to Burkhalter. Klink poured another glass of Schnapps. He hoped he would pass out from too much alcohol. Pass out and not feel the pain. He wanted to be numb.

He suspected General Burkhalter was asleep, and wondered how the man could sleep so peacefully knowing he had sent Hogan to his death.

"You're a coward, Klink," the Kommandant slurred. "That's what you are. A sniveling, yellow coward. After all the times Hogan saved you from the Russian front, you did nothing to save his life." Klink drained the rest of his drink and started to pour another only to find his decanter empty. With a snarl, Klink threw the empty glass against the far wall where it shattered into dozens of pieces. The Kommandant rubbed his forehead.

"You're were the only friend I had and you were my enemy. I couldn't save your life because of my cowardice, Hogan. But I can do one thing. I can keep your men safe from the Gestapo. I promise you that much."

* * *

In Hogan's room at the hospital, the door quietly opened. General Alvin Butler and General Michael Carpenter walked in the room letting the door close quietly. The nurse seated at the desk looked around hearing the sound of the door opening. She smiled at the two men, got to her feet, and approached them.(1)

"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked, recognizing both men.

"We just stopped by to see Colonel Hogan," Butler said. "How is he doing by the way?"

"As you can see, General, Colonel Hogan is still unconscious. Physically, he appears to be in fairly good health. But we won't know his complete mental condition until he can be evaluated. Once he wakes up, we will have our psychiatrist examine him and make a decision."

"Why is he restrained?" asked Carpenter.

"One of the medics, Sergeant Branson, said Colonel Hogan attacked him. He was told the Colonel has had outbursts of anger and hostility. We agreed it would be best to restrain him for his own protection as well as that of the staff here."

General Carpenter shook his head sadly. He touched his breast pocket where the condolence letter and his son's dog tags rested. The letter had been written by the Acting Senior POW but he didn't care. His heart broke when he learned of the death of his only child days ago. But seeing Hogan in this state doubled his pain. _How did this happen to you, Rob?_ he thought to himself. _You are not to blame for Terry's death. I won't lose you as well._

"Thank you, nurse," said Butler. The nurse smiled and returned to her desk. The two men approached the bed, stood beside it, and looked at the sleeping Hogan. Carpenter let out a deep breath. "I cannot believe Rob fell apart, Alvin. I realized he would take Terry's death hard. But I never thought this would happen."

"Neither did I, Michael," Butler sighed. "Hogan has always been strong. I always thought nothing would break him. But according to his men, he blamed himself for not being able to stop the Gestapo from taking your son from camp and for his death. Seems he also felt guilty for the unfortunate deaths which occurred during a mission a few months ago. Apparently he never got over those losses either. I guess it was all too much for him to handle."

"I hope he understands I don't hold him responsible in any way for Terry's death."

"In time, I'm sure he will. But knowing Hogan as I do, he always blames himself when anything happens to somebody under his command."

General Carpenter rubbed his forehead. "Alvin, I owe it to Rob to help him any way I can. He is a dear friend. Whatever I can do to help him recover I will do if he'll let me. And even if he doesn't let me, I will be there for him."

Butler smiled at his friend. "I think it will mean a lot to Hogan," Butler sighed. "But unfortunately, there's nothing we can do tonight. Perhaps tomorrow when he's awake. He'll need our friendships to get through this."

* * *

Hogan slowly opened his eyes and looked around at the strange surroundings. He didn't recognize anything other than the room was white, and he lay on a somewhat comfortable bed.

With a headache beginning, Hogan tried to lift a hand and massage his forehead, but found he couldn't move his arm at all. Puzzled, he lifted his head slightly. His arms and legs were restrained with leather straps. Another leather strap was across his midsection. Not understanding, he let his head fall back onto the pillow and swallowed hard as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Colonel Hogan?" a female voice said. "Glad to see you're awake finally."

Hogan turned his head to the side. A young woman wearing a nurse's uniform, approached the bed. She stood beside it, looked at Hogan, and smiled pleasantly. Her name-tag read: Mrs. Jo Reed. "You've been asleep for nearly ten hours. How do you feel, Colonel?" she asked.

"I…I don't know," Hogan replied in a voice just above a whisper. "Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital in London."

A frightened look appeared in Hogan's eyes. "Hospital? Why? What am I doing here?" He was becoming agitated. "Why aren't I at Stalag 13? Where are my men?"

The nurse patted his shoulder gently. "Please calm down, Colonel. Let me go and get the doctor. He will explain everything and answer any questions. I'll be right back. Just try and relax."

Hogan watched her turn and walk away before turning his head and staring up at the ceiling again. It was then a realization came to him. "I failed him," he murmured. "I failed Terry and he's dead because of it." Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, tears rolled from the corners of his eyes. Opening them again, he stared at the ceiling with a vacant stare, eyes completely devoid of life. _"What happened to me?" _he asked himself.

* * *

(1) I gave General Butler the first name of Alvin in my story The Evil That Follows.

**The End**


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